


Mouth Like Fine Wine

by Doctoring



Series: Fine Wine [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - France, Angst, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, France (Country), Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Outcast!Wade, Religious Content, Religious Guilt, Sinners to Lovers, Slow Build, Slow Burn, any more tags would be spoilers, priest!peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:10:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 129,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21951211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctoring/pseuds/Doctoring
Summary: Late 1950s France AUFather Parker is lucky his sins merely resulted in a transfer, offering him a second but final chance. He is determined to move past his transgressions by throwing himself into his work. This includes helping the local outcast, Wade Wilson, feel welcomed in town again.The more they learn about each other, the more ambiguous their views become for love, sin, and righteousness. Hope is resurrected but so are some secrets.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: Fine Wine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842361
Comments: 527
Kudos: 341
Collections: Isn't it Bromantic?, Spideypool Priest Fest 2019





	1. Dec 25, 1956

**Author's Note:**

> First, a warning. This story touches on some not-so-great topics. There will be gory details, homophobia, suicidal ideation, and more topics which I’m not mentioning upfront because of spoilers.
> 
> Second, there’s already some fanart!? What!? I’m completely floored and holy heck, I wish I knew how to express my appreciation and amazement over this. The art will be scattered throughout the story and I’ll eventually make a masterlist for it.
> 
> Finally, I would like to thank a group of people who supported and encouraged me as I created this beast. I’m not entirely sure I would have the drive to finish this (or build it up this far) if it wasn’t for them. Thank you for subscribing to my brand of crazy. And now, the Sunday School class roster: [Corey](/users/Corey5268/), Fizzy, [Jen](/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide), [Katana](/users/SpiderKatana/), [Roo](/users/NinaRooxx/), [Shani](/users/Shani97/), [Space](/users/Orange_Coyote/), [Tsuki](/users/Tsukiwolf42/), and [Yami](/users/ChickenGoesMoo/).  
> Though most were “too devout to help,” there were two who became martyrs for the cause, willing to see spoilers sooner for the sake of correcting my jank grammar and dyslexia mishaps. My wonderful, supportive betas: [Jen](/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide) and [Space](/users/Orange_Coyote/)! Thank you ~~and I’m so sorry~~.
> 
> And now, the massive tale of two men finding and redefining salvation.

“You can stop here, thank you!” Father Parker calls out to the driver.

The cart eventually slows down, but not without a final jerk, sending Peter falling into the bale of hay next to him. With an annoyed groan, he dismounts the cart, dusting himself off. He reaches for his extra coat and his two suitcases, wiping the hay and dirt off of each in the process.

“You good?” the driver shouts back to him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just trying to get the-”

Before Peter can express his annoyance at all the loose hay, the cart starts pulling off. Peter rushes after it to retrieve his last item, jumping onto the cart again and landing roughly on his stomach, legs dangling out behind him. He manages to grab the last of his personal effects before sliding off the back of the cart, arms flailing. However, due to the recent rains, he’s unable to steady himself and slips in the mud.

The last item he grabbed – his travel Bible – goes sailing into the air. He scrambles after it, letting go of one of the suitcases in the process. But it’s no use; he still fumbles it. The Bible lands open but face down on top of his shoe with the edges of the pages dipping into the mud. He sees a shirt flutter down next to it and realizes that the suitcase he dropped has popped open. Many articles of clothing now lay on the grimy road.

“How much more, Lord, how much more?” Father Parker prays under his breath.

He uses the edge of the cleanest shirt he can find to wipe off his Bible before wrapping it in a clean pair of pants and placing it in the suitcase. He stares at his muddy clothes before giving up and hastily shoving them all back into his luggage to deal with later.

“If any of this is indicative of my time here, this village will surely be the death of Father Parker.”

As he stands, he looks down at his dress pants. His left knee is now cold from the mud seeping through after kneeling in a shallow puddle.

_I hope they weren’t lying about the rectory being ready for move-in as soon as I arrive._

As Father Parker approaches the church grounds, a member of the clergy comes running out of priory, waving frantically.

“Hello! You must be Father… Parker… oh, gracious…” the man trails off as he glances down to the mud caked onto Peter’s pants and shoes. He snaps his head back up as he extends his hand. “I’m Deacon Lasalle, it’s good to meet you!”

“Likewise…” Father Parker realizes he was too focused on the embarrassment of his current state to listen to the man say his name and now feels too uncomfortable to ask him to repeat it so soon.

“Beg pardon, but what happened!?”

“Oh, you know the devil. Doesn’t take a break, even on sacred days.”

The deacon laughs before gesturing towards the clergy house. “Right this way.”

Deacon Lasalle opens the door, allowing Father Parker to enter first. All the while he talks about the history of the priory, most likely memorized earlier that day. Apparently, this one-story cottage has been here nearly as long as the church, though both have seen expansions over time. Father Parker sets most of his belongings down on the floor as he stares at a painting on the wall, faded on one side from sun damage. Lasalle tries to help as he lists off the furnishings that are included in the rectory.

He then directs Father Parker towards the kitchen, not realizing that he’s still holding one of his suitcases. Deacon Lasalle starts listing off the appliances and kitchen supplies, putting emphasis on the ones bought within the year. He then points out the kitchen door, mentioning something about spare robes and clothes the diocese had provided for Father Parker’s transition, though Peter barely hears him. He’s too focused on the cabinets and tile of the kitchen.

Deacon Lasalle opens the fridge, saying, “I took the liberty of providing a few items to hold you over until you can go shopping. It’s not much but… is everything okay, Father Parker?”

“What? Oh, yes. Yes. Right.” Father Parker looks back at Deacon Lasalle who is giving him a concerned look. Peter pulls his hand back from the backsplash that he was tracing with his fingertips. “It’s just… My aunt had a kitchen that was yellow and white, just like this, with the whole rustic feel to it, too. We lived in the city, but the kitchen always made me feel like I was transported through time and space to her childhood, at least the parts I knew from her stories.”

Deacon Lasalle smiles softly as he says, “I’m sure she’ll love it whenever she visits, then.”

Any ease Father Parker was feeling from the hospitality is now wiped away with that last comment. Peter can’t bring himself to tell Deacon Lasalle that his aunt can only visit him if she becomes the next Lazarus.

As Father Parker tries to find something to say to prevent any more conversation about his aunt, Deacon Lasalle cranes his neck to check the time. “Heavens! I should leave you to get ready for service! Be sure to check the rest of the rectory when you can and let me know if you need anything else.”

Father Parker barely manages a quiet ‘thank you’ before Lasalle rushes out the door. Peter stalls a moment, unsure of what to do, before sitting his last suitcase on the kitchen table. He takes a peek at the clock and opts not to check the rest of the priory or even properly unpack.

He starts to get undressed but pauses, considering his options of what to wear for the Christmas Mass. The current priest of this town is being sent to another on the other side of France so that he may be closer to his family during his final days. This was to be his last service, even though they did not have a replacement for him yet. Father Parker tries to ignore the possibility that he might have been excommunicated or worse, if they weren’t in such desperate need for a replacement.

Seeing that this is the priest’s final sermon, and that he’s heard rumors of the priest’s strict and old-fashioned ways, Father Parker decides to go with more traditional robes instead the usual button-up shirt with slacks that many young priests like himself are now donning. However, he doesn’t bother looking for the cassock he brought with him, knowing that it is, presumably, heavily wrinkled by now. And if his memory serves correctly, he had to shove a mass of black fabric into the muddy suitcase, meaning it is most likely his dress robes that are sullied.

Father Parker grabs the cassock hanging by the door, part of the spare clothes they are giving him, and tries it on. It’s stiffer and a bit too big in places; the sleeves cover his hands. When he puts on the cincture, it causes the cassock to bunch around his waist, exaggerating the oversized look. He looks down at himself and sighs heavily.

_Why not look as small as I feel?_

A few more sardonic thoughts pass through his mind before he decides to leave.

Father Parker’s pace is slow as he walks towards the church, finally taking a good look at it. At first he was pleased to see how large it was, two stories with multiple wings. It is nearly half as big as the one in his previous parish, but the similarities end there. He knows the weather contributes to the dreariness of the holy campus, but he fears that there may be more behind the cold atmosphere. The building looks old and almost neglected; Peter is not sure if the giant chips and cracks in the westward corner are due to age or war. And the people going inside are not engaged in delightful conversation as he’s used to seeing on the steps of a church. Instead, they are slowly strolling in, hardly any words said between people. He is pleased to see two deacons, including Lasalle, standing outside and greeting the congregation, though they scarcely receive a reply in return.

_I know it’s unusually cold for this region of the country, but surely it’s not too cold to remember common courtesy!_

Peter takes a deep breath and marches towards the steps. He joins the deacons in greeting the congregation. A few citizens ask him questions about his transfer, which he deflects with, “I just hope I can live up to Father Comtois’ legacy.”

However, Father Parker does not even know what Father Comtois looks like, nonetheless his demeanor or ability as a priest. He learns soon enough when an elderly man walks up the steps, slowly pulling his scarf off to expose his collar.

“Good evening, Father Comtois,” both deacons chorus.

Father Parker straightens out his robe before saying, “Hello, Father Comtois! It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Father Parker extends his hand, but quickly pulls it back when Father Comtois scowls at him and says, “Come with me. We need to go over the order of the service.”

Father Parker follows Father Comtois into the church, his eyes focusing on the few wisps of hair failing to cover the elderly man’s baldness. He glances downwards and suddenly realizes why his new cassock was so large. Father Comtois’ robes are taut around his waist, his cincture digging into his sides just a little.

_Seems he’s… well fed…_

As they walk up towards the altar, Father Comtois speaks to him without looking back. “Do you typically stand outside and greet the congregation at your old parish?”

“Ah, no, but I do talk to them once they’re inside.”

Father Comtois scoffs. “They should be here to worship the Lord, not engage in idle gossip.”

Father Parker cannot help but aim his disgusted expression at the back of the older man’s head. Never before has he heard such disregard for community building.

Unsure of what to say, Father Parker looks around the sanctuary as they continue their slow trek up the aisle. He is surprised to see so many of the pews full, but disheartened to see the lack of communication outside also occurring inside. Though the sense of togetherness is severely lacking, Father Parker is certain that the majority of the town are in the church right now as opposed to his old congregation, which made up less than a quarter of the city.

_The church is the center of the community. I’m not just trying to fit into a new congregation, but the town around it. Even if the town needs a little help in coming together…_

Looking towards the altar, Father Parker takes in the minimal Christmas décor. There’s a few strands of garland and a bush of holly by the pulpit. There are also red candles, but Peter cannot be certain that those are seasonal.

He follows Father Comtois to the corner of the sanctuary, through a door he believes leads to the offices. However, as soon as the door is shut behind Father Parker, Father Comtois stops in his tracks and turns around in the middle of the hall.

In a moment of panic, Father Parker blurts out, “So about the order of the service. Do you typically-”

“Let us pray together that you remain on the right path this time.”

Father Parker gapes at him in shock, before nodding quickly and bowing his head. As soon as he closes his eyes, he feels Father Comtois’ hands land heavily on his shoulders.

_He knows. He’s not supposed to know, but he knows._

_Why would they lie to me, telling me he had no clue whatsoever about my situation, when he clearly has enough to want to pray with me?_

As the priest prays over Peter, Peter tunes him out. In fact, he tunes him out for the entirety of the service. Instead, he remains in his seat, thinking of everything he needs to do to get settled into the new clergy house before allowing his mind to go blank and his eyes to glaze over. He comes to after a moment, realizing he has managed to ignore the entire homily, but he feels no guilt.

Peter couldn’t help it. He is furious.

He was hoping to leave his past, his sins, behind. He spent over a month in an even smaller village to rededicate his life to God and repent, and now he was transferred here, a small town in the southeast of France that he had never even heard of until a week ago.

_This was supposed to be a fresh start._

_But how can one start fresh when your first moment in the church is repenting for what you’ve already spent weeks repenting!? When God forgives your sins, he casts them to the bottom of the ocean and forgets about them. But humans? They will keep your sins on display in front of your very nose for as long as possible!_

Before the service is over, Peter’s anger transforms into exhaustion, the same kind he’s been feeling for six weeks now.

He had been told that these transfers were to be viewed as a blessing since second chances are rare, but he knows punishment when he sees it. And at this point, Father Parker wonders if it would have been better to be excommunicated rather than constantly reminded of how much he has failed.

As soon as the service is over and the congregation starts to leave, Peter manages to find a side entrance and slips out towards the rectory. He peels off his robes as soon as he’s inside, heading straight for the bed. But before he could pull back the blankets, he pauses.

He remembers something that he keeps, something that only adds to the pain of his current situation but, at the same time, comforts him. And right now, he’ll take whatever comfort he can get and hope the pain is outweighed by the sweet nostalgia.

Peter rushes back to his suitcases. He opens the one that he didn’t drop, pushing aside his clean clothes, until he finds what he’s looking for. He pulls out another Bible, a rather old one but free of mud. He carefully opens the back cover until the binding splits and then shakes the Bible. A slip of paper peeks out, and Peter pulls it out the rest of the way.

Soon, Father Parker is tucked into bed, reading the letter he keeps hidden in his favorite Bible. The contents of the letter aren’t extraordinary, no significant messages or beautiful prose, except for a few lines at the end. The only reason he still has this letter is because it is the only item that he has left to remember Harry by.

Harry, the man that made it difficult for Father Parker to resist his unholy urges.

Harry, the man he was caught kissing, who caused his transfer.

Harry, the man that he loved.

_Loved?_

Peter folds the letter back up, placing it on his chest and gently laying both hands over it as he thinks about that word.

_Sure, the sins of the flesh are one thing, and I’m only in this situation because I caved in and kissed him back in the heat of the moment… and we were caught… but did I actually love him?_

_Or was I just in love with the idea that a man could love me?_

Peter doesn’t think he was truly in love with Harry, but he believes that if he wasn’t devoted to the church, he could have learned to love Harry, given enough time. But that is not his life anymore. Peter will never love again, will never even entertain the idea, and especially not regarding another man. His eyes will be transfixed on God and God alone. But the tug in his chest says otherwise.

_Why was I born sinful like this?_


	2. Dec 26, 1956

The next day, Peter washes the muddy clothes. He hesitantly hangs them on the line outside the rectory to dry, a bit concerned about the cold air chilling his attire rather than drying it.

_I’m not sure how I am to adjust to this rural living… but how do I ask for advice without coming across as a pretentious snob?_

As he continues to hang his clothes, Peter sees a strange man walking from the church, one not dressed as a member of the cloth. But Peter is used to seeing townspeople going in and out of the church at all hours since his previous parish, so he initially pays it no mind.

The man pauses in the middle of the street, stumbling to a stop, and stares at Peter, tilting his head as if confused. Father Parker notices the sudden change in movement from his peripherals and pauses. Instincts tell him it is someone who is looking for a clergy member to talk to. He slowly hangs up his last shirt while waiting for the man to approach, but he doesn’t. Peter turns to watch the man, trying to get a better look at his face, but the man is bundled up too much to get a good look. Between the scarf and the hood, Father Parker can barely make out any distinguishing features.

As Peter begins to open his mouth and ask the man if he needs something, another voice cuts through the winter air.

“Father Parker! There you are!”

Peter snaps his head to the side, looking at the deacon running up the path. Peter quickly looks back at the strange man to see him tug at his hood before walking off rather quickly. Peter feels his breath hitch when he notices that the man has only one glove on and his exposed hand is…

_Is it… is it scarred?_

_How unfortunate, having burned his hand like that._

Peter is still thinking about the man’s possibly burned hand, wondering if it is from an occupational hazard and if the stranger is currently safe from more harm, when the deacon finally reaches him.

“Father Parker,” the deacon whispers, “I would be wary of that man if I were you.”

“W-why!?”

The deacon shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later, but right now, the Archbishop wishes to see you.”

Peter feels his heart drop as he runs towards the church.

_He said he would check on me after I’ve settled. It hasn’t even been a full day!_

Peter feels sick to his stomach during his entire visit with Archbishop Parde, given how terrible the last two visits were, only speaking to him when the church was deciding his fate, none of the comments on the pleasant side. Father Parker recalls how the Archbishop kept pushing for the highest form of castigation, making his distaste for Peter and his sins clearly known.

Archbishop Parde introduces himself to Father Parker, as if Peter would be able to forget him after the very last thing the archbishop said during their last interaction.

_“Consider yourself blessed that the Holy Church is being generous with you when you ought to have the maximum punishment.”_

The words still cut deep whenever he thinks about them, but they do not anger him like they once did. He knows that it isn’t just the Archbishop who believes he deserves such. Most of his previous diocese believes that as well. Even Father Parker thinks he deserves it.

However the Archbishop is only here for three reasons, none of which are to remind Peter of how he has fallen from grace. At least that is the attempted façade.

First, Archbishop Parde wants to look around the church and the rectory. He admits that he does not know much about this town or church, just that they need a new priest soon and Peter needs somewhere to go, so it seems like perfect timing, a timing only God can provide, according to him.

As they walk around the courtyard in front of the church, the Archbishop elaborates on their decision to send Father Parker here.

“We decided that a more… country-like environment… would probably suit you best. And this one certainly has quite the view!”

Peter looks over at the mountainous skyline. He knows there are no other towns between him and the mountains. The town he is in, that he will be in for the rest of his life, is nestled between several hills. It is almost as if it is tucked away from the rest of the world. And as Peter recalls the last town he saw before arriving here, the sparse farmhouses and such along the drive, he better understands why he was sent here of all places.

 _What you mean is that you decided that I needed to be somewhere remote, as if in isolation. To keep_ me _from the rest of the world, from temptation._

Then Archbishop Parde wants to see the homily Father Parker has prepared for his first service, even though he still has a few more days until Sunday. Lucky for him, Peter has a few homilies prepared ahead of time in case of emergencies. He selects one that relates to keeping your focus on the Lord. The Archbishop reads over it, whispering out key phrases under his breath, mainly the ones regarding the importance of penance in one’s salvation. With each word Father Parker overhears, he feels a surge of anger and guilt, but he realizes he only has himself to blame for picking out this particular homily for the Archbishop to see.

_I should have just been honest and shown him the half-written homily on new beginnings and changes. I didn’t want to risk his anger or disappointment in an incomplete homily, but this… this is worse._

Once Archbishop Parde finishes reading the homily, he hands it back to Father Parker but does not let go when Peter tries to pull it away. Father Parker looks up, meeting his eyes.

The Archbishop smiles at him, the wrinkles in his face moving in ways they most likely haven’t moved in years. “I must commend you on your choice in topic. Seems you have learned a great deal.”

When he lets go of the papers and praises Father Parker once again, Peter feels a sickening sense of relief.

Next, the Archbishop has lunch with the entire clergy. The atmosphere in the café is tense as they dine. Father Parker is not certain if the other clergy members fear Archbishop Parde as well, or if they too are as cold as him. He has a fleeting thought that the deacons may know of his sins as well, but it’s pushed aside when the kind deacon from yesterday suddenly asks Father Parker about his hobbies.

_Either he’s looking past my sins or he’s blind to them. I pray it’s the latter._

The warmth he feels with the friendly deacon is not reflected in the others, who seem to ignore Father Parker. Towards the end of the meal, Deacon Duguay volunteers to take Father Parker around town the next day, though not without a heavy sigh first. Peter bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from telling Duguay that he does not need to bother if it will be such a hassle for him.

As they exit the café, Archbishop Parde announces his departure. His final words to Peter: “We will be checking in on you from time to time. Don’t forget.”

Peter cannot tell if that is supposed to be a threat but still nods all the same, hoping he isn’t trembling or giving off any other signs of fear like he did when his tribulations first started.

Once Archbishop Parde leaves, Father Parker starts to head towards the rectory to check the laundry. He suddenly remembers the strange man and turns around. It doesn’t take him long to find the deacon in one of the backrooms in the church. Father Parker tentatively raps his knuckles on the doorframe.

“Excuse me, what was your name again?”

“Lasalle. Victor Lasalle, sir.” The man grins at Peter. “Did you need something, Father?”

“Nice to meet you again Monsieur Lasalle, I just have a question. Who was that out in front of the church earlier, when you came to retrieve me for Archbishop Parde? Why should I be wary?”

“He’s just no good, sir, doesn’t live a right life. He tries to come here from time to time but… he doesn’t fit in.”

Peter suddenly recalls all the outreach missions and social gatherings his former congregation did to increase attendance and feels the wind knocked out of him at the deacon’s claim of preventing an individual from attending church.

_He can’t be serious… can he?_

“What do you mean he doesn’t fit in? If he wants to attend church, who are we to deny him?”

The deacon shakes his head. “We don’t know much about his life, but from what we can tell, he’s far, _far_ from the path of the righteous. I’m sure you’ll hear the rumors soon enough and then you’ll certainly understand as well.”

“I’d rather hear the truth than rumors. Besides, if he really is that bad off, then he most definitely needs to be in the church so as to be saved.”

“There might not be any saving him.”

Father Parker freezes, never expecting to hear the line said out loud, the line he says about himself each day he is confronted about his transgressions.

“Besides, he’s hardly ever in town. He lives up in the hills a bit aways from the village. He only comes down to shop for supplies about once or twice a month. So hopefully you won’t be running into him as much.”

“I see… what… what did you say his name was?”

“I didn’t…”

Peter gives Deacon Lasalle an unamused glare.

“It’s Wade, sir. Wade Wilson.”

“Wade… Wilson…” Peter quietly breathes out, rolling the name on his tongue as if tasting it.

_I feel like I need to meet this Wade and invite him to church. But next month, when he shows back up in town to shop. I’ll find a way to cross paths and meet with him then._

Father Parker hardly has any information regarding Wade but finds himself unable to stop thinking about him for the rest of the day. He wonders what kind of life Wade might lead to cause Deacon Lasalle to claim he is far from righteous and unable to be saved. He wonders what happened to his hand and if that has anything to do with the rumors. And he wonders what kind of church he is now serving that doesn’t allow just anyone to attend.

_Can this church really be that judgmental or is he really that bad of a person?_

Father Parker reminds himself that the church can’t be judgmental, given his current situation. Otherwise, he would not be here. They would not have allowed him to lead the congregation. At the very least, the former priest, who knows about his transgressions, would have most likely stepped in and deemed Father Parker as far from righteous as well.

Father Parker cannot rule out judgment, not when he does not know what other clergy members were made privy to his sins. But the more he tries to convince himself that his new parish is not casting stones, the more he finds himself trying to fit Wade into the equation. Ultimately, he begins to fear Wade, even without ever seeing his face.

_What kinds of sins has he committed for the church to turn on him? Are they worse than mine?_

_Will the church forsake me like they have him if they knew of all my sins?_

Father Parker sleeps uneasy that night, guilt and dread at the forefront of his mind. He worries about Wade’s place with the church, and his own, given all his sins that brought him here. His own problems are as fixed as they could be, but he couldn’t help the paranoia that he might lose his place in church like Wade has lost his. Peter tosses in bed for quite some time, assessing Wade Wilson’s mysterious issue with the town church.

Eventually, he has to admit defeat in order to force himself to get some rest.

_At least there’s more time to figure this out… and I won’t be seeing him until next month…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some editing bloopers, [click here](https://sendadoc.tumblr.com/post/189866524071/mlfw-bloopers-chapter-2).


	3. Dec 27, 1956 – Jan 13, 1957

The next morning, Peter wakes to the sound of Deacon Duguay knocking on his door. He drags himself out of bed and gets dressed, knowing that if he doesn’t allow the deacon to take him shopping this morning, he’ll just be wandering around the town aimlessly this afternoon.

_But why did he have to stop by so early?_

Halfway through the shopping trip and the tour of the town, Father Parker starts to feel more awake and begins to take an interest in his surroundings. He sees the old little stores and cafes, feeling a mix of adoration at the quaint town and concern over living in such a small community.

Roughly halfway through their trip in town, Deacon Duguay starts arguing with the barber about rescheduling the appointments for all of the clergy. Father Parker rolls his eyes and looks away, finding a group trip to the barber shop a bit foolish. In doing so, he sees an old bookstore through the window and gives in to his urges, sneaking off towards it as Deacon Duguay continues to argue.

Peter wanders through the bookstore, fingers gently gliding across all of the old bindings, breathing in the scent of old paper, dust, and wood. He imagines one of the shelves being in his home, books not of a religious nature at the ready, for him to read at his leisure as a pot of coffee percolates on the stove. He wanders further into the bookstore, still moving his fingertips across the spines of the books, hoping that touching them so much will satisfy his urge to pick one up and neglect his duties for the day.

He smiles a bit sadly when he notices his fingers leaving trails in the dust on the jackets of a small section of books in the back of the store. He tries to read the title of one of these abandoned books, but it isn’t in French or Latin, so Peter gives up and walks away.

As he heads back towards the front of the bookstore, he sees the deacon through the window, looking frantically around the street. Peter chuckles to himself as he takes a few steps back from the window. He isn’t ready to leave quite yet, so he carefully sneaks behind the nearest shelf and works his way back through the store, making a mental note of what sections and titles to return to at a later date when he has more time.

He keeps thinking about the books whose titles he can’t read, noticing the rest of the French books in the store. He eventually makes his way back to that far, tucked-away corner, and runs into someone as he turns. He barely mumbles out an apology when his voice catches in his throat as he falls backwards.

The man he has bumped into reaches out with a scarred hand, grabbing his arm, to stop Peter from falling over. Father Parker works his gaze from the hand to the man’s face. The stranger reaches up and roughly pulls back his hood, exposing his face and giving Peter a terrified stare.

Father Parker didn’t expect to see the stranger he was warned about, at least not so soon. And he did not even dream that the scars extended past the stranger’s hand.

The man furrows his brow as he asks, “Are you okay?”

_What happened to this poor soul!?_

“Are you hurt, Father?” His voice is more frantic now.

“Yes, yes, I… wait… how did you know I was… I am a…”

Peter trails off as the stranger lets go and gestures to his throat. Peter reaches up with his hand, feeling the collar that is sticking out past his scarf.

“Oh… right…” Peter laughs quietly.

He then sticks out his hand, offering a handshake, but the stranger looks apprehensively at it, leaning back a little and gripping his book with both hands now. Peter feels a bit disappointed as he slowly lowers his hand.

“I’m Father Parker.”

The man nods curtly at him before quietly saying, “Wade Wilson.”

Peter grins. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Wade Wilson, though I do apologize for doing so in such a careless manner. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

When Wade smiles and shakes his head, Peter feels a bit of the tension leaving. He then notices what kind of book is in Wade’s hand, one of those dusty ones in a language he does not know.

“Can… Can you actually read that!?” Father Parker inches forward, eyes wide in awe.

Mr. Wilson looks down at the book for a moment. “Um. Yes, actually. I… I was…” Wade trails off as he looks back up, not at Peter, but past him. He hastily returns the book to the shelf.

“I’m sorry,” Wade mumbles as he rushes past Father Parker, straight for the entrance, sticking close to the far wall as he does so. Peter turns to stop him but shuts his mouth when he sees the deacon standing just a few feet behind him, his jaw set firmly.

“Oh, come now! Don’t tell me you’re going to warn me about him, too!”

Deacon Duguay opens and closes his mouth several times before saying, “Uh… yes… well-”

“What exactly is the problem here!?” Peter half-shouts, throwing up his hands.

“You see… that… _character_ … has done some unrighteous things in the past… and he’s shown up in and around town in a… well, in a questionable manner.”

“Is no one around here going to give me a straight answer?” Peter grumbles under his breath. Peter glances back at the bookshelf to find the book Wade was looking at. He finds it rather quickly, Wade obviously having wiped all the dust off. Peter notes the gold font on the green cover and is surprised to see the eszett and the umlaut in the title.

 _Wait… does he know_ German _by chance? He did seem to have a bit of an accent now that I think about it…_

_His sins can’t be related to-_

Peter continues to stare at the book as he says, “Tell me, what do you know about Mr. Wilson? As in truly know, not just rumors and hearsay.”

The deacon fumbles on his words for a moment. “Well… aside from hearsay, there isn’t much confirmed. I just know he lives in the hills, was in the war, and he sits outside the church.”

Peter snaps his head back to the deacon. He fumbles on his words for a moment, not sure what part of that last statement to focus on. He does not know the significance of the hills, but feels that it’s not a pressing issue, not when instincts want him to ask about Mr. Wilson’s role in the war after seeing the book. Father Parker was but a teen during the war, only entering adulthood and his ministry towards the end of it. However, his faith and service to communities always manage to supersede in the end, albeit barely at times.

“What do you mean sits outside the church?”

“He’ll stop by for services sometimes and sit outside the church, usually under a window, claiming that he’s listening to the sermons.”

“If it were _permitted_ , he would hear better from the inside,” Peter sasses as he brushes past the deacon, suddenly ready to finish up this shopping excursion as quickly as possible. The rustic charm of this town can no longer ease his heart.

After putting away his purchases and having lunch, Father Parker goes to the church to set up his office. When he opens the door, he sees that Father Comtois left behind quite a few books and papers on the desk and shelves. As he goes through them to figure out where to place everything, he realizes he can learn more about his new parish from Father Comtois’ old notes. He finds the archives and skims through anything remotely interesting to him.

He discovers that the church used to host many events and encouraged community growth but roughly five years ago, they started to do less and less though there is no indication as to why. He uncovers contracts for repair, all of which were cancelled, also for reasons unknown. He finds dusty folders for records on weddings, births, confirmations, and deaths, though he notices that there are no such records after the start of the war. There are plenty of other tidbits Father Parker learns but not once during his three hours of searching does he come across Wade’s name.

As Father Parker reads a police report about a teenager breaking into the church four years ago, Deacon Lasalle peeks his head into the room.

“My gracious, is everything okay?”

Father Parker looks around at the stacks of papers and folders all around him. “Yes, just, learning about the church… There’s not another room for archives, is there?”

Deacon Lasalle shakes his head.

“I was afraid of that. Mind helping me put these back?”

Father Parker resists the urge to ask about Wade again, afraid he’ll receive another dismissive answer.

Peter goes home that evening expecting that he won’t see Mr. Wilson for a while, not with his infrequent visits to town and his habit of sitting outside for sermons rather than joining the congregation. However, he only has to wait until the next Sunday, when Father Parker decides to greet each and every member of the congregation as they entered the church. He feels it is his duty to be extra-personable these first few weeks, seeing as he is new to the community.

In doing so, he ends up standing outside the church for quite some time and manages to spot Mr. Wilson coming up the road. But Wade doesn’t walk towards the front of the church, and instead walks to the side of it. Once Peter feels it is time to head inside himself, he sneaks past the corner and sees Mr. Wilson sitting under a window, book opened in his lap. Father Parker watches him for a moment, wondering if it is the German book or a Bible, wondering if he should go speak to him, before turning around and returning to the warmth of the church.

The following Tuesday, Peter is making his rounds through town, meeting as many people of the community as he can. He passes by a dirt road and spots Wade walking towards him.

“Good morning, Mr. Wilson!” Father Parker calls out happily, waving his hand high in the air.

Wade jerks his head up, looking a bit startled. “Hello!” he calls back, waving sheepishly before turning around and going back up the dirt path, his pace quicker now.

_Well… that was odd… perhaps… perhaps he forgot something?_

Over the next few days, Father Parker discovers very little information about Wade aside from the fact that the old priest had indeed shunned him and disallowed him from entering the church outside of special services and for confession.

Father Parker doesn’t know how this has made Mr. Wilson feel, but considering he nevertheless attends church, albeit outside, his faith might still be intact.

_It might even be stronger than my own. Lord knows how I’ve been faltering since my conviction. I’m not sure if I could keep sitting outside windows of the church that forsook me._

The following Sunday, Father Parker finds himself going back into the clergy house as soon as he leaves to retrieve more winter wear. He suddenly thinks about Mr. Wilson sitting outside the church in such damp and cold weather, and his heart is burdened.

 _I don’t know just how severe the issue is between the church and him, and if I could ever convince him to come inside… but maybe… maybe_ this _could be a good compromise._

Father Parker stands outside the church door, greeting each congregation member as they enter, but he keeps an eye on the far side of the road. As soon as Father Parker spots Mr. Wilson heading towards the side of the church, Peter runs inside and retrieves the blanket he has brought with him. He ignores the curious looks of the deacons as he slips back outside, and heads to the window Wade frequents. The sound of the lingering snow and ice under his shoes alerts Wade, who stands suddenly, looking around in a panic.

“You know you can come in if you want.”

Mr. Wilson shakes his head. “It’s best if I don’t.”

“Well, at least take this then.” Peter hands him the blanket.

Mr. Wilson starts to wave his hands in protest, but Father Parker ignores this gesture, unfolding the blanket part of the way. He tries to drape it over Mr. Wilson’s shoulders, but the larger man flinches. Father Parker freezes for a moment before tossing the blanket over just one of Mr. Wilson’s shoulders. “Though I do wish we could all meet the Lord in the end, I do not want you to do so freezing to death outside my church.”

Wade stares at him for a moment before chuckling. He slowly reaches up and clutches the blanket. He opens his mouth to speak but one of the deacons is shouting for Father Parker from the front of the church. Father Parker quickly turns and races towards the entrance, feeling foolish for forgetting that he has a service to run at this very moment.

After the service, Peter steps outside and looks for Mr. Wilson, but doesn’t find him. Disappointed, he heads back to the rectory, just to find the blanket he had lent Wade folded back up and sitting on the top of the steps.

_I certainly hope he used it. I would hate for him to be so timid that he allows himself to get sick._

Father Parker ends up spotting Mr. Wilson once more the following week and is pleasantly surprised to receive an immediate smile and a wave, rather than hesitance followed by retreat.

The next Sunday, the deacons take it upon themselves to greet the congregation, so Father Parker waits for Wade by the side of the church. As Mr. Wilson approaches, his gait is normal, but once he looks up and sees Father Parker, his steps are slower, almost unsure, and his smile is clearly faked.

“I’m afraid I must inform you that you are no longer permitted to sit out here during services.”

Mr. Wilson freezes mid-stride and purses his lips together, clearly concerned.

“It’s far too cold and I won’t allow it, so you may as well come inside.”

“I don’t… I don’t know about that…”

“Seriously, Mr. Wilson, I insist. Besides, when I’m standing there giving a homily, I like to see everyone who is listening. And believe me, it would do me good to see at least one face not fast asleep.”

Wade laughs at that, but then frowns. “I’m afraid I’m not… I shouldn’t…”

“Says who? The former priest?”

“Former? What do you mean former? I thought you were just visiting or-”

“No, unfortunately, I have been _graced_ with spending my remaining days here. And I’m happy to announce that whatever rules or restrictions the former priest may have had in place, have now gone with him. So please.” Father Parker gestures towards the front of the church.

Mr. Wilson looks in that direction, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Would it be okay if I just slipped inside after the service started?”

Father Parker considers this for a moment before saying, “Are you just saying that to get me to stop asking or will you really join us?”

Wade turns back and nods. “Yes, I’ll be there, I swear. Though… just a little late.”

“Fine. But if I don’t see you by the time I start the homily, then I’d better hear your excuse for lying during confession later.”

Mr. Wilson grins then nods. “Of course, Father.”

When it is time for Peter to stand and give the homily, he scans the room before uttering a single syllable. At the very back at the edge of the pew, Father Parker spots Wade, who smiles broadly at him. And for the first time in over two months, Peter finally feels warm inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was inspired by a conversation in the Bromantic server. It was originally supposed to be 20k with minimal angst, but that was a fool's dream. It's now going to take over twice as much as that just to make it to the first kiss.  
> So, buckle in and get ready for all the religious guilt and pining.


	4. Jan 27, 1957

Father Parker spots Wade a few more times over the next two weeks, but they do not speak outside of basic pleasantries. That is, not until Mr. Wilson shows up one Sunday afternoon after service is already over.

Father Parker is double checking the pews for forgotten items when he sees Mr. Wilson running up the front steps.

“You’re a bit late I’m afraid,” Father Parker teases as he continues to search the pews.

Mr. Wilson throws his head back and groans. Still panting, he says, “I was supposed to be back last night, but hitching rides is not the most reliable method of transportation. I just got here only moments ago.”

“Oh, were you away from town?” Peter turns to look at Mr. Wilson, watching him wipe the sweat from his brow, his face clearly flustered over missing service.

Mr. Wilson only nods in response, fumbling with a wrapped parcel in his other hand.

Father Parker watches Wade for a moment, a dozen questions bubbling at the surface. He wants to ask where he was, where he works. He wants to inquire about the scars, though he’s not sure he can without appearing impolite. He wants to know why Mr. Wilson lives in the hills instead of in town. He wants to question Mr. Wilson on the rumors to finally know what they are and if there’s even one grain of truth to any of them. He wants to ask for his side of the story, of Wade’s history with this church, to help ease any pain and do anything else to fix it besides allowing him to sit in on services. He wants to ask-

Mr. Wilson steps forward, waving a hand in front of Father Parker’s face, startling him.

“You okay there? You were staring quite a bit.”

Peter nods fervently. “Yes. I was… I was just lost in thought…”

“Uh huh. You sure you just weren’t staring at me?” Mr. Wilson gives him a crooked smile, his face lighting up.

Peter resists clutching at his own heart. He’s always been weak for a nice smile; it was that wicked smirk that first attracted him to Harry. Father Parker typically tries to guard against this and other known temptations. So he is surprised that he’s been caught off guard by the scarred half-smile he’s seen several times already.

Father Parker stammers for a bit. “Staring? At you?”

Wade rolls his eyes but grins wider. “Was it because of all my scars? I really don’t mind. I’m used to-”

“No,” Father Parker breathes out, now actively staring but unable to stop himself. “Your smile.”

A loud laugh erupts from Mr. Wilson, and Peter replays what he just said to cause such a reaction. Father Parker, mortified, fumbles to counter his comment.

“You’re pretty funny, you know that?” Mr. Wilson says, ignoring Father Parker’s stuttering. “I haven’t heard that kind of humor since the war.”

“The war? You were _in_ the war?”

“Yup!” Mr. Wilson takes a seat in a nearby pew, leaning forward and resting his arms on the pew in front, the parcel dangling from his hand. “I was… a soldier, I guess you can say. But special missions. Not one of those troopers.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you survived those _special missions_.”

Wade laughs a bit nervously. “Yeah… I suppose so… but that’s where all the scars came from. The war. I was in… it was a very bad situation… really messed up my body, as you can tell.”

“I see- I mean, I don’t, I-… I’m sorry.”

Mr. Wilson waves him off. “I get it, it’s fine. It’s all over, so it’s not like you weren’t going to notice.”

“…Right,” Father Parker murmurs. “That is really unfortunate you had to endure war along with such pain.”

“Eh, I mean-” Mr. Wilson starts to talk with his hands and ends up dropping the parcel. “That’s right, I came here to give you this.” Wade stands and starts unwrapping the parcel, reaching inside.

“What is it?”

As Mr. Wilson starts to pull out some francs, a voice from behind them says, “Blood money.”

“Blood-” Father Parker turns his head to see one of his deacons rushing towards them.

He watches as Deacon Duguay scowls and reaches up a hand towards Mr. Wilson. However, Wade is already out of reach, having taken several steps back before wrapping up the money. Mr. Wilson turns and rushes towards the doors.

Father Parker follows after him, shouting, “Mr. Wilson! Wait! Please!”

Wade takes several more steps before stopping, hesitantly looking over his shoulder.

“Father Parker,” says Deacon Duguay, “I don’t think we should be permitting-”

In a fit of fury, Father Parker spins around and faces the deacon, fists clenched at his sides. He takes two quick strides towards him before saying, “What? We shouldn’t let someone offer their wages when they willingly _want_ to tithe? There is someone here who wants to be an active member of the congregation, wants to hear the word, wants to contribute, and who are you to deny him? What authority do you have? And frankly,” Father Parker loses his composure, his professional tone now unmasked by his annoyance, “What in heaven’s name makes you think that it is blood money!? Where did that even come from!?”

The deacon stutters on his words before saying, “I just think it would appear… _improper_ to allow just _any_ source of money to be-”

“Money? Appearances? Is this what faith is really about? If that’s the case, should we add ironing out all the wrinkles on the francs from the tithe to your list of Holy duties?”

Father Parker starts praying for penance over his temper. As he asks the Lord for the strength to calm down, he hears a snort behind him. A split second of silence passes before Peter hears Mr. Wilson’s stifled laugh.

_Oh thank goodness! Mr. Wilson didn’t sneak out when I turned my back, but now he’s seen me speak out in anger. I hope he doesn’t think of me as-_

“Ironing the francs…” Mr. Wilson mumbles before he starts to chuckle loudly.

Father Parker feels relieved but also finds himself struggling not to smirk at his joke. He tries to furrow his brow in an attempt of a stern look before addressing the Deacon again. “Safe to say that we, as clergymen, should stick to the faith and leave the aesthetics and appearances to artists and aristocrats.”

“Yes, Father,” Deacon Duguay replies quietly, looking away, but Peter is able to see the anger on his face before he turns.

“Right, so until further notice don’t deny someone’s money if they want to tithe. Besides,” Father Parker picks at the corner of the pew nearest to him, a large splinter of wood peeling off. “We could do with a little renovation.”

“I understand,” the deacon says, holding out his hand to the side of Father Parker. Peter looks behind him and sees Mr. Wilson hesitantly pulling the money back out of his parcel. Because of the outburst from earlier, Peter didn’t get a good look the first time. But now that he has, he greatly regrets making the renovation joke. It isn’t just a few bills, but a thick stack of them bound together with twine.

_Oh no… Now I sound like I’m only allowing this because of the amount!_

_Wait… This appears to be more than we received in one Sunday at my previous church! Where did he get so much money!?_

_Is it… Is it really blood money? Oh, what have I done!?_

“Thank you, Father,” Mr. Wilson says quietly as the deacon walks off with his offering. “But I’m sorry it caused such a fuss.”

“No, no. That was him- us- the church. Yes, the church. We are sorry about all that. There is no reason you shouldn’t be allowed to follow your faith as you please. Especially if, as far as I can tell, you’re doing nothing but trying to help your church and grow your faith. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I do have one question…”

Mr. Wilson swallows before quietly asking, “What… What is it?”

“Why do you put up with it? The cold attitudes?”

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”

Father Parker grins at the verse. “Are you saying you allow them to treat you this way to keep the peace?”

“Pretty much. It just seems easier to let it run its course and move on. Besides, you get tired of fighting after a while.”

Father Parker shakes his head. “As long as I’m here, I’ll try my best to make sure there is no more fighting.”

“Well, let us hope you’re here for quite some time then. Not sure how long priests typically stay…”

“Oh, I will be. I was sentenced to spend the rest of my mortal days here,” Father Parker sighs heavily as he thinks about the surrounding mountains, viewing them more as a fence these days.

“Sentenced!? What do you-”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Just self-deprecating humor.”

Mr. Wilson nods and turns to leave when Father Parker stops him. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask now. What exactly is your occupation?” When Wade hesitates to respond, Father Parker presses on. “It’s just… that was a lot of money. Do you even have any left for yourself?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Mr. Wilson chuckles. “I’m not the wealthiest, but even so, finances are not a problem for me.”

Father Parker stares at him for a moment, wondering what kind of occupation would suit someone like Mr. Wilson, at least his admittedly baseless perception of him.

Mr. Wilson tilts his head a bit. “You’re concerned about the blood money comment, aren’t you?”

“I… well, yes… It just… it took me by surprise. I mean, are they saying that because you were a soldier in the war? Is that where they’re making the connection?”

Mr. Wilson looks contemplative for a moment before responding. “It could be? Maybe? I mean, my job does relate to the war. Indirectly, but it does.”

“You still haven’t said what this job is…”

“Ah. I haven’t?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Really?”

Father Parker shakes his head, starting to get a bit annoyed at all the deflection.

“Well, that’s too bad, because I really ought to get going. Conversation for another time I suppose.”

In that moment, Father Parker realizes that during the past few exchanges, Mr. Wilson had been slowly making his way to the door. Before Father Parker can call out to him to stop, Mr. Wilson slips outside mere seconds after his last word.

As soon as Wade returns home, he plops down on the couch, holding his head in his hands.

“You should have seen me just now. I was as smooth as gravel,” Wade says to the memory of the one who used to live in this cabin with him. “I just… I thought he knew and was being nice despite it all… but either he’s trying to get me to confirm the rumors, or… or he doesn’t know…”

Wade can’t bring himself to say his fears out loud. He’s now worried that it’s only a matter of time before Father Parker finds out and starts the shunning process all over again. He dwells on it for a moment, trying to convince himself that after everything Father Parker has said, there is no way he would eschew a community member like that.

He manages to reframe his views to simply worrying that Father Parker will, at most, avoid being alone with him. That’s a thought he can live with. Though after getting a taste of normal civil conversation on the regular, it’s a thought, a possibility, that he still likes to avoid.

“I can’t sit here and mope all day over things that haven’t happened yet.” 

Wade stands and shuffles towards his kitchen, snatching a rag from the counter. He takes a seat at the table so he can begin cleaning his gun.


	5. Feb 27, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT CHAPTER 4:  
> Did you read that chapter on or before Dec 28, 2019? If so, you might want to go back and read the end again. Added some stuff.

The church is hosting a cleaning, where members of the congregation are encouraged to come by and help spruce up the church as well as the main areas and roads within the community. Father Parker is pleasantly surprised at the number of people who show up but feels a little saddened since a particular person is not in attendance. About an hour after job assignments are handed out and the cleaning has begun, Father Parker sees Wade walk up to the front doors of the church, slowly peeking in. Peter hurries towards him and shouts, “Mr. Wilson! Mr. Wilson, over here!”

Mr. Wilson quickly turns around and grins at Father Parker. “Hey, I can still help with the cleaning, right?”

“Of course! How about you join me and Mr. Mont-”

“No… I’d…” Mr. Wilson looks uneasy as he rubs the back of his neck, clearly struggling for words. “I’d think it be best… if I didn’t join anyone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to help, but only if I can do it alone.”

Father Parker frowns at this. “Part of the point of this event is community building, so it would contradic-”

“Building a community is not something that will happen within a day. Especially not with me around. So please, is there anything I can do by myself?”

Father Parker thinks for a moment. “Actually, we do need someone to go clean the storage shed. As we were getting supplies from it today, we noticed that it was in quite a state of disrepair. We should probably get it cleaned up enough to begin repairs on it later.”

He leads Mr. Wilson to the lawn behind the church, all the way to the shed. He watches as Wade circles around it, taking in the terrible condition of the structure and the turf around it.

“We just need some basic tidying around it, raking, weeding. Maybe wiping down the wood but do be careful of splinters.”

Wade nods, running a finger through the grime on one of the side windows. “Not a problem. And if time permits, I’ll try to clean the windows and the roof.”

“Perfect. Thank you. But do mind the window on the front. Half the panes are broken.”

Mr. Wilson walks to the window in question and flicks at the broken glass, sending a few shards flying into the shed with a clatter. He looks over his shoulder sheepishly. “I, uh… I’ll clean that up.”

Father Parker sighs. “Just be careful. Please.”

Once Wade promises to do so, Peter leaves to help clean the statue in the town square.

Halfway through the day, Father Parker and a group of men start filling a few holes in the road leading to church. As they finish the first patch job, one of the church members asks, “What’s he doing, walking towards the church?”

Father Parker turns with the rest of the men to see Mr. Wilson walking back towards the church while carrying a plank of wood and a large bag.

_When did he leave? And what is he doing now?_

“Is he helping with clean-up?”

“But how?”

“Ah, yes… he’s… he’s cleaning the shed…” Father Parker answers, though he doubts shed cleaning involves a slab of wood.

He thinks about going to investigate, a bit paranoid after recalling Wade’s desire to work alone. However, he fears that his push for community building will be jeopardized if he appears suspicious of Mr. Wilson. As the men move on to the next hole in the road, Father Parker decides a quick prayer of Mr. Wilson’s intention will have to suffice.

That evening, as people start to go home for the day, Deacon Lasalle laments over the fact that his master list of tasks is not even half-way completed.

Father Parker pats him on the back. “Well, it was a lot of work, and it was all being done with volunteers. We should simply be grateful that anything is being completed.”

Deacon Lasalle sighs. “But it’s always like this. There never seems to be an end. Did you have this problem at your previous parish?”

Father Parker thinks for a moment, trying to recall their cleaning days, then shakes his head. “No. The ladies group hosted a spring-cleaning event, but it was nothing like this. We actually had individuals on staff that took care of cleaning, repairs, and the like. Say… isn’t there anyone like that here? I noticed the last staff meeting was clergymen and a few volunteers.”

“No, I’m afraid not. We had someone who used to do odds and ends around the church, but he passed a few years back.”

“And you never hired anyone after that? Do we not have the budget?”

“We do. And we tried for a few months, but no one seemed to want the job.”

Father Parker nods. “But that was years ago. Let’s figure out the details later and re-announce the job opening this Sunday.”

Deacon Lasalle agrees just in time for the last cleaning crew to show up and announce their departure for the day. Once all the goodbyes are said, Father Parker suddenly realizes that Mr. Wilson might still be working on the shed. Peter rushes to the back lawn to inform him that he may leave for the day. However, Wade is no longer on church grounds, though it is apparent to Peter that he had stayed and did more work than he originally agreed to.

Not only are the grounds around the shed trimmed back, but Mr. Wilson has patched the roof and replaced both broken window panes with wood paneling. And upon one of the panels, there are ornate carvings that make it appear as if the vines growing on that side of the shed have etched their way into the wooden windowpane.

As Father Parker is tracing his fingers across the carving, he hears footsteps approaching. He looks over his shoulders and sees Wade walking towards him, staring down at his hands. He is rubbing something with a rag, though Father Parker cannot tell what.

Mr. Wilson looks up and stumbles to a stop. Wade’s eyes dart towards Peter’s hand, still on the wood panel. “I hope that’s alright. I just thought that the wood looked plain and could-”

“It’s splendid!” Father Parker breathes out. “Thank you so much!”

Mr. Wilson grins as he continues walking towards him. He bypasses Peter and heads towards the shed door, where he kneels. Peter watches as Wade takes a polished doorknob out from the folds of the rag and starts installing it.

“You didn’t need to go and get a new one.”

Mr. Wilson glances back at him. “I didn’t. I just fixed this one and shined it a bit.”

Father Parker starts to thank him for doing the most, when he finds himself transfixed on Wade’s work. He watches his fingers and how they move around the edge of the door. He trails his eyes up Wade’s arm, slowly shifting as he turns a screw. He can see the muscles in his shoulder and upper back moving as Wade reaches down and back up again, bringing together the last few small pieces for the lock. He only tears his eyes away when Mr. Wilson suddenly stands and turns towards him.

“I think that’s about it for the shed, unless there’s anything else you want me to do.”

“No… no, that’s great! You’ve already done so much!”

Mr. Wilson grins at him, blushing slightly, and Father Parker hates the way he immediately finds it adorable.

“I do have a question though, why did you insist on working alone? I know I would have loved working beside you, seeing how you carved that panel and basically built a new shed!”

Wade laughs uneasily and stares at Father Parker, who only quirks an eyebrow at him, still waiting on an answer. A few moments pass until Mr. Wilson says, “You seriously don’t know? After being here for, what, two months?”

Father Parker gives him a confused look. “Know what? What is there to know?”

With a heavy sigh, Mr. Wilson leans against the door of the shed. He once again worries that Father Parker will start avoiding him if he knows the truth. He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts.

_No, he wouldn’t- He’s not Comtois. I can trust Father Parker, right?_

He shifts his eyes over to Peter briefly before closing them, tilting his head back against the door.

_I guess I could tell him… just the bare bones of it. Besides, if he’s going to hear about it eventually, it will be better coming from me._

“Your predecessor had a few… ideas… about people, about me in particular, and about… about the associations people had with those he didn’t deem fit. So, between all the rumors and a few people finding out about something from my past, something prior to my walk with the Lord, mind you… I was deemed a… an unworthy person… But not only that, people close to me started being judged for it as well. They were treated poorly because they associated themselves with someone who was deemed unworthy, as if being unrighteous was infectious. Which led to…” Mr. Wilson sighs heavily, rubbing both hands roughly across his face. He lowers his hands but keeps his eyes closed as he continues. “Someone near and dear to me suffered greatly all because she couldn’t see why I was viewed as unfit for the town and therefore wanted to remain my friend… So, it’s a mix of knowing that no one else wants to be shunned like she was as well as me not wanting anyone to pay for my shortcomings.”

_Absolutely disgusting. It’s almost impossible to believe! How can a man of the cloth encourage shunning in his church, in his community, like this? Encourage judgment on someone’s past sins and promote the scorning of those simply associated with him?! How can anyone who claims to follow the faith cause such tension and bitterness and-_

“But that’s why I prefer to work alone. I’m sparing myself and everyone else around me.”

Mr. Wilson opens his eyes, immediately looking startled at Father Parker. Peter cannot blame him, he is just as startled. He had not realized he was inching forward as Mr. Wilson was speaking, not until Wade is suddenly staring back at him from far too close. Mr. Wilson breathes in a gasp and slides against the door, pivoting around Father Parker, creating more space between them.

In a brief moment of panic, Father Parker blurts out, “Mr. Wilson, wait!”

Mr. Wilson stops, looking hesitantly at him.

Father Parker quickly thinks about what he should say, unsure of why he has even stopped Wade in the first place. Eventually he settles on, “You do know my predecessor is just that… a _predecessor_. Father Comtois is no longer here.”

Mr. Wilson smirks at him before gesturing a hand at Father Parker. “Oh? And here I thought he had just shed a few pounds and a few decades recently.”

“And grew a full head of hair suddenly?” Peter adds flatly, giving him an unamused stare.

Mr. Wilson nods fervently. “Exactly!”

Father Parker rolls his eyes. “As fantastical as that may be to see, it’s not what happened.” Father Parker ignores the way Wade’s fake pouting warms him. “As I’ve suggested before, he’s gone and so are his biased and unfounded ideologies. I know it will take some time, but I will strive to make sure you feel as connected to your own community as you should be.”

“And how do you think you’ll manage that?”

With a wicked grin, Father Parker says, “Depends on you. Tell me… what other kinds of handiwork are you good at?”

“I, uh… well… I’m living in a cabin that I’ve slowly been transforming into a more modern dwelling, so I’d say I’m pretty good with my hands in general. Construction, manual labor, pretty much anything with a knife- I mean, you know, for- for carving stuff and the like… um… but why?” Wade groans inwardly, making a note to himself to work on his cover story again.

“Would you be willing to work for the church as a handyman? We have a lot of odd jobs that need to be completed and done well. And if your work on this shed in just one day is any indication, it _will_ be done well if _you_ are the one to do it.”

Mr. Wilson starts laughing but stutters to a stop when Peter crossed his arms with a huff. At Wade’s hesitant look, Father Parker presses further. “Plus, I- well, we- as in the church… we will pay you. Which I’m sure will help against those rumors of blood money and whatnot.”

“I can’t take your money. For something like that, it belongs to the church.”

“Well, if you decide to keep it, put it in the offering plate, burn it, that’s up to you. But if you’re working for the church now, you’re getting paid.”

“But- what- I- I never agreed to work for the church though.”

Peter gives him an exaggerated fake pout. “Oh? You won’t?”

Father Parker has never imagined a man of Wade’s size could blush so furiously.

“Fine, fine… I’ll… I can’t believe I’m saying this… I’ll work for the church.”

“Glad to hear it, Mr. Wilson! Could you come back Friday for your first task?”

Mr. Wilson nods curtly before walking off, not saying a word. He can’t risk speaking, fearing his excitement might come off as weird to Father Parker. He has dreams about being able to move around town without an onslaught of judgment, but never once has he imagined acceptance like this, especially from a member of the clergy. Wade hurries home, vowing to himself that he will find a way to repay Father Parker for all his kindness.


	6. Mar 1-22, 1957

The following Friday, Mr. Wilson shows up to the rectory to receive his first assignment as the official handyman for the church. Father Parker leads him to his office to explain a few things, realizing a bit too late that he has coerced Wade into the job without knowing all the details himself. Peter explains how Wade will be paid and provides a list of some of the more regular tasks he’ll need to perform. They discuss some of Wade’s skills and Father Parker takes notes, happy to see that Mr. Wilson will be able to help with most of their needs.

As he jots down an extra line about finding someone else to do the sewing, Father Parker says, “Right now you’ll be more focused on the repairs and such, though you can slowly start incorporating the other, more regular tasks as you find time. But in general, with a job like this, there may be times where work is plentiful and other times when it’s scarce. You will just have to find something to do. Is this okay with you?”

“That sounds a lot like what I already do… I was doing… you know, contract work. ANYWAYS! What do you have for me now?”

Peter stares at him for a moment before saying, “Contract wo-”

In a fit of panic, Mr. Wilson immediately starts rattling off questions about his new job, mainly inquiring about his first task. He hopes that Father Parker will forget about his slip-up while answering all his questions, but Father Parker just stares at him in silence. Wade then starts throwing in enthusiastic comments about being grateful to work for the church in this manner, hoping to appeal to Father Parker’s generous heart.

Father Parker meanwhile waits for a chance to repeat his question, but quickly realizes that Mr. Wilson is not willing to touch the topic. Peter sighs, giving up hope of getting more answers about Wade’s background, at least for today.

“I’m glad to see you’re so enthused with this,” Father Parker says flatly, resting his chin on his hand.

Mr. Wilson nods fervently. “Of course! Is there anything you need me to do now?”

Father Parker glances down at the list of needs, trying to determine which is most crucial, but a particular one keeps catching his eye. It is one of the few items he added himself, one he added on a whim based on something unusual he has noticed on the church grounds. Peter drums his fingers on the table as he thinks about the task.

_Giving into my bias just this once shouldn’t be too bad, right? I mean, nothing is really in dire need._

_But I’m not even sure Mr. Wilson will be able to do this. We haven’t discussed-_

“Is there a problem?”

Father Parker shakes his head. “Follow me. I’ll show you your first assignment.”

Father Parker leads the way to the unkempt stretch of lawn between the rectory and the church. He stops in front of a wooden archway, though the shape reminds Peter of a doorframe with no door. He dramatically raises his hands towards the lawn just past the woodwork and announces, “Here it is, your first task! To help revive the garden next to the clergy house!”

Wade cocks his head to the side, taking in the site. He hums softly to himself, but otherwise makes no noise.

Father Parker looks between Mr. Wilson and the lawn several times, slowly lowering his arms. “Oh. Oh, no. I just assumed it was a garden because of the- the-” Peter gestures wildly towards the few rocks outlining it and the traces of rows of mounded dirt on one side.

“No. You’re right. It was a garden. I just… I didn’t think the church cared about it anymore nonetheless that it would be my first assignment.”

Father Parker suddenly recalls Deacon Duguay’s list of things that were neglected in favor of caring for the previous priest. “Did the church stop caring for it when Father Comtois became ill?”

Wade scoffs. “Nah, nothing like that. Comtois and a few other deacons never even tried to take care of it. They just allowed it to slowly fade away into a small, messy field. That’s why the makeshift stone border is in such disarray. The neglect started several years ago.”

_Several years ago? Several years?!_

_Has Mr. Wilson been living as an outcast in his own town for that long?_

_Should I give him something else to do besides work that’s near the priory? Something that is not near a place associated with his_ years _of isolation?_

Mr. Wilson immediately starts pulling large stones and debris from the edge of the garden area nearest him. Father Parker quickly rattles out a few other projects he remembers from the list, telling Wade that he can work on whichever one he wants, if he doesn’t want to touch this garden. But Peter ends up trailing off, realizing that Mr. Wilson is starting to pick up a rhythm in cleaning up the yard.

_He’s clearly unphased by concerns of who used to live here and caused the garden to end up in shambles._

He watches Mr. Wilson pull out a few more stones before saying, “Before you continue, I have a question.”

Mr. Wilson pauses, looking up. “What’s that?”

“This garden that was here, would it have included flowers?”

“Uh… no, actually. Most priory gardens like this are purely for food and herbs for the clergy and community.”

“Ah,” Father Parker says, turning away and lowering his voice. “What a pity. Flowers would have been a nice addition.”

Father Parker then kneels next to Wade, slowly removing a few stones as he asks about the kinds of food they can grow for the community. They plan out the revival of the garden before Father Parker has to go back inside the church to do work. Peter only makes it a few steps before Wade calls out to him.

Peter pauses, looking over his shoulder.

“I’ll also be working on those pews, just so you know. I think it would be easier to focus on the sermon if people weren’t focusing on how not to get nicked by a splinter.”

Father Parker chuckles. “Sounds good to me. Thank you.”

Wade watches Father Parker leave, chuckling at how he wipes the dirt from his hands onto his pants with a grimace. Wade originally assumed that Father Parker lingers to keep an eye on him. But as they talk, Wade realizes that perhaps occupation is the only similarity shared by Father Parker and Comtois. Wade only experienced callousness from Father Comtois, even before the rumors and the secrets, but Father Parker is not like that. He does prod and ask questions but, other than that, he does not seem to be bothered by Wade.

_In fact, I might be able to properly grow my faith under Father Parker’s guidance. He’s probably the most devout in the clergy, but he’s not uncaring like this town. He has that open-hearted attitude you see in the Bible but not in the believers. His morals aren’t controversial, he’s active in the community, he’s friendly, he’s attractive, he has a witty sense of humor, he’s always-_

_Wait… I’m… I shouldn’t have…_

Wade throws himself into his work, not wanting to sort out the unwelcome thoughts that have unnerved him. He would rather ignore it and focus on reviving the garden that flourished when he first moved to this town. However he can’t get Father Parker off his mind completely, not when he begins to plot a way to repay him for his kindness.

Over the next two weeks, Father Parker watches as Mr. Wilson shows up to the church grounds to either tend to the garden or fix any splintering pews. The first time Wade works on a pew, he removes it entirely from the sanctuary to work on it outside, claiming it makes clean-up easier. However, he is unable to finish before service the next day. A few members of the congregation complain about the missing front pew, but their attitudes change drastically the following Sunday.

Four pews are repaired, but the congregation acts as though they are brand new church benches in the front of the church. Eventually Father Parker realizes it is not just an act, when one of the elderly church members asks if he plans on purchasing more brand new pews. Father Parker wants to brag on Mr. Wilson’s behalf but isn’t sure how Wade and the congregation will take that. Wade seems content on hearing compliments from afar, looking pleased with himself before walking away.

During a particularly rainy few days, Mr. Wilson holes up in one of the back rooms of the church, sanding down and mending a few church benches he has disassembled and brought back there with him. Father Parker goes to check on Wade and finds him hunching over a pew, smoothing down the edges with long strokes, his whole body rocking with the motion. Father Parker watches him for a while, seeing how muscles flex and move under Wade’s thin, sweat-soaked shirt. His mind begins to wander and an internal struggle commences that he had prayed would never happen again. He starts to feel a bit weak, finding it hard to stand on his own two legs without grasping the doorframe, so he resigns himself to going back to constructing his next homily in the privacy of his own home.

When the rains cease, Mr. Wilson goes back to working in the garden again. Peter hopes that he can use Wade’s new employment with the church to transition him towards doing work for the community. This is his plan, to hopefully allow Mr. Wilson to establish a more positive relationship with the people of this town. Father Parker dreams of seeing him interacting with the community more by summer, until a family comes to visit Peter at his home and he notices Wade rushing off to hide behind the clergy house. Father Parker frowns at the realization that it will take a lot more time and effort to build his community properly. Peter welcomes his guests into his home as he makes a mental note to think about smaller, smoother transitions for Wade.

The visiting family drops off snacks and freshly made juice, only staying for a few moments for brief, idle talk. They soon depart, leaving the refreshments behind. Without much thought, Father Parker immediately pours a glass for Mr. Wilson and goes outside.

He stands on the edge of the garden for a moment, looking at the incomplete work before he remembers Wade’s mad dash for cover.

“Come on out!” Father Parker shouts towards the corner of the priory. “They’re gone now.”

Mr. Wilson looks a bit sheepish as he steps out from behind the rectory, pretending to be tinkering with a few gardening tools.

Father Parker holds out the glass to Wade, who takes it without question. “You’ve been working away all morning, Mr. Wilson, so I figured you could use a drink.”

“Mmm. No.” Mr. Wilson licks his lips after his last large sip.

“N-no!?”

“No to ‘Mr. Wilson.’ I mean, if I’m working for the church now, you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me, and I don’t think I can take hearing ‘Mr. Wilson’ that much. It’s too formal, and I’m not about that kind of life.”

Peter grins at him, “I understand… Wade.”

Wade is taking nice long gulps of the juice, finishing off the glass, but Peter can tell by his eyes that he is grinning.

For the next week, Mr. Wilson shows up to work on the garden at least twice a day. Peter questions him about it, and Wade explains that since the garden is so new, it needs lots of tending to, especially with all the newly sprouted seeds. When Mr. Wilson returns later that day, Peter is already home but aims to leave Wade alone so he may see to the tiny budding plants. However, by being in the rectory, he is better able to hear Wade poorly singing ‘Sur Ma Vie’ to himself.

Father Parker steps outside and slowly walks towards Mr. Wilson, who continues to pull weeds unaware that he is no longer alone. A few steps away, Wade looks over his shoulder right at Peter, mumbling out the next few syllables before he stops the song.

“Mr. Wilson- sorry, Wade… you didn’t need to stop on account of me.”

“Ehh.” Wade just waves him off, continuing to pull weeds, but in silence this time.

Father Parker feels it is awkward to just head back inside, so he fumbles for a way to cut the silence, eventually blurting out, “You really do seem to enjoy gardening.”

Wade glances at him, quirking his brow.

“Is, ah… Is this a hobby of yours?”

“I mean, it’s something to do. I can’t grow anything where I live, it’s just too rocky especially for a decent sized garden. Only long-established trees and bushes grow around there. I do have a few plants, all in buckets, but nothing substantial like this.” Wade sits back on his heels and gestures all around him.

“Is that why you’re doing this? Because you can’t have your own garden where you live?”

“Well… I suppose so, but there are also other benefits to me being in charge of this garden.” Wade goes back to pulling weeds.

“Oh? So then, what’s in it for you?”

Without missing a beat, Mr. Wilson says, “Fresh veggies for whenever you want me to cook you dinner. Or lunch. Whichever. Hey, do priests even do meals, or do they just consume food and nutrients via _divine powers_ or something like that?” Wade gestures wildly with his hands at the last two words, weed still in his fist, splattering dirt around him.

Father Parker quirks an eyebrow, a corner of his mouth twitching against the grin that wants to appear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at it! The amazing doodle of Father Parker by my wonderful frand Roo.   
> And look in the background! It's Wade's cabin and the church.  
>  _*hearteyes for days*_


	7. Apr 19-22, 1957

It is the Friday before Easter Sunday and Father Parker cannot possibly be more stressed. His homily is not coming together like he wants, his special Easter sermon is still in pieces on notes with nothing connecting them as of yet, and he knows that there may be a risk of a bishop of some sort coming to the service to check on his adjustment to his new life.

_Or new punishment. Depends on which Bishop’s perspective we’re talking about._

Father Parker wakes up before dawn, dedicating his time to try and formulate a coherent sermon. He only stands from his desk to get water or go to the bathroom. He can’t afford to leave for any other reason. The stress will not allow him.

Around 11:00 that morning, Mr. Wilson stops by to check on Peter before going to tend to the garden. Peter gives him a weak smile and immediately goes back to work, mumbling about how he can’t spare much time to talk at that moment, not until Easter is over. He murmurs out an apology before glancing back at Wade, only to find that he has already left.

A few minutes later, Wade returns, approaching slowly. “Have you found time to take a break, maybe stretch a little?”

“That’s what Monday is for.”

Wade chuckles quietly. “Well, have you found time to eat at least?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Father Parker murmurs. He eventually looks up when Wade doesn’t respond, but he is already gone. Peter sits there for a moment, pondering if Wade was even there to begin with or if his overworked mind had just made it up. He harshly rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands before opening another concordance.

About an hour later, Peter sees someone in his peripherals. They are moving quite cautiously, taking their time to approach, and Peter _does not have time for this!_

Father Parker glances up and sees Wade standing there with a plate in his hand. Wade freezes for a moment before quickly taking the last four strides towards Peter. He sets the plate down carefully next to the stack of books, nudging them out of the way slightly.

“You need to at least eat something, Father. You won’t be able to give an Easter sermon if you don’t survive until then.”

Father Parker snorts out a laugh. “I suppose you’re right, but you didn’t have to go and make something for me.”

Wade shrugs. “I noticed a few carrots were ready to be pulled and got a little excited.”

“Wait, this is from the garden?” Peter asks a bit too loudly in his excitement.

Wade grins broadly and nods. “I told you I’d use the vegetables in the garden to cook for you.”

Peter feels himself flushing a bit as he pulls the plate closer to examine the meal. There is a leg of some kind of poultry, possibly chicken, along with a small pile of green beans and sautéed carrots. Peter slowly takes in a deep breath and smells something familiar.

_It’s like… like the far corner of the garden…_

_Did he also plant herbs to use in cooking as well?_

Father Parker turns to ask Wade any of the dozens of questions swirling around in his mind, but he is too late. He sees Wade stepping out the door before he even has a chance to utter a syllable. He turns back to his meal and decides a short break will not be detrimental to his homily preparation process. After the first bite, he concludes that a short break is not good enough. He’s going to sit back and savor what might possibly be his tastiest meal in this town, even with its simplicity.

After a few more hours of work – and possibly one loud scream to destress, causing a deacon to run in and check on him in worry – Father Parker manages to piece together enough of a sermon to feel accomplished for the day.

_I’ll just leave it alone until tomorrow evening. I will edit it then, and it will be good to go!_

Peter starts to clean up the area around him when he sees the empty plate, nothing left on top but the fork and one bone. He’s not sure what to do about this since Wade has used his own personal plate and fork for the meal. He takes it home to clean it, then paces in his kitchen while considering his options. He doesn’t want to hold onto it until he sees Wade again because that might not be until two days from now, on Easter, and things might be too busy then. But he can’t go and return it because he doesn’t know where Wade lives, only the road Mr. Wilson takes to get there. There could be winding trails, forks in the road, multiple cabins, and many other things that will make it harder for Peter to find him.

Father Parker starts to stress about not being able to return Wade’s property when a loud knock startles him. He feels embarrassed about the slight yelp that escapes his lips and takes a minute to compose himself before answering the door.

“Mr. Wilson!” When his guest scowls at him in a joking manner, Father Parker corrects himself. “Wade, sorry. I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Oh!?” One of the corners of Wade’s mouth starts to pull back slowly, a pleased smirk appearing on his face.

Peter races towards his kitchen to retrieve Wade’s plate and fork. “I was just trying to figure out how to return this to you, and you showed up just in time.”

Father Parker holds the plate out towards Mr. Wilson. As Wade reaches for it, his fingers lightly brush against Peter’s, causing both men to startle. Father Parker lets go of the plate before Wade can grab hold of it. It falls to the ground, shattering, the fork landing on top of the ceramic fragments.

Peter yanks his hand back towards himself, clutching it with his other hand. He stares down at the mess and gasps. “I… I’m terribly sorry! I’ll buy you a new one!”

Wade brushes him off with a wave and kneels by the scattered shards. He picks up the fork and pockets it before slowly collecting the fragments of the plate. Father Parker rushes to squat down near him. “Stop that! You can hurt yourself!”

Wade snorts out a laugh. “What’s the worst that can happen? My scars will get a scar?”

“I’m serious! I’ll clean it up!” Peter gently lays a hand on Wade’s arm, hardly enough pressure to move the sleeve, but it’s enough to cause Wade to pause. “Please stop!”

Wade carefully drops the pieces back onto the ground and stands slowly.

“I’ll get you a new plate!”

“It’s fine, Father. I swear.”

Peter takes a moment to try to suppress his feelings, a mix of guilt about his carelessness, shock at how a simple touch has startled him so much, and the adrenaline of the whole ordeal. He takes a breath before grabbing a broom to clean up, refuses to allow Mr. Wilson to do the cleaning. Father Parker attempts to distract Wade by asking him about the vegetable garden, the herbs, and Wade’s experience with cooking.

As he slowly and carefully cleans, he finds out that Mr. Wilson has been cooking for many years, having practically raised himself since he’s lived alone for most of his life. Wade then starts gushing about everything he’s planted in the garden, what he plans to plant once the seasons change, and all the meals he intends on making with his harvest. He eventually trails off, apologizing for rambling as he heads to the door.

“Sorry… got a bit excited there… I can be a bit of a talker at times.”

“There’s no harm in that, though I do hope I get a chance to try some of those dishes you described.”

“Of course!” Wade smiles softly at him before leaving.

The Tuesday after Easter, Father Parker still has the incident with the plate on his mind and intends to remedy the issue as quickly as possible. He goes into town, wandering around for a store that might sell what he needs. He initially finds simple plates, very similar to the one Wade had brought him. Then he spots some that have a painting of a grape vine along part of the edge, only costing a few francs more. He isn’t sure why a grape vine of all things catches his eye and makes him think of Mr. Wilson, but the thought will not leave him. So, he purchases two of the grape vine plates.

That evening Father Parker manages to catch Wade in the garden, telling him to stop by the rectory once he’s done for the day. Wade gives him a concerned look and asks if something is the matter. Refusing to spoil the surprise, Father Parker simply says, “Just stop by,” with the straightest face he can manage.

Peter barely has the door closed when Wade rushes up, stopping it with his hand. “You’re starting to worry me. You sure everything is okay?”

Father Parker grins and leads Wade to the kitchen table. He points down to two thinly wrapped parcels stacked on top of each other and says, “Here are your new plates!”

Wade gapes for a moment. “I… you really didn’t have-”

“No, no, no! I insist!”

Wade slowly undoes the tie, folding back the paper to reveal a plate. Peter grins widely, pleased with his selection of dinnerware when Wade slowly drags a fingertip across the grape vine design. He pulls his hand back and snaps his head towards Father Parker. “This is too much!”

“Well, the Bible does say you will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way!”

“Oh! I get it now! So, you’re just trying to _enrich_ yourself through charitable acts.”

It is clear through his tone of voice that it is said in jest, but Peter still can’t help but scoff.

Wade picks up the plate and bumps his hand against the parcel underneath. With a furrowed brow he quickly moves the wrapping paper from the table and stares down at the second parcel that was underneath.

“There’s another!?”

Father Parker shrugs.

“Why are there two!?”

“Because I wanted you to have two. You’ve done so much for the church already, and I went and broke your-”

“No. No, no, no. You really shouldn’t-”

“Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due when it is in your power to do it,” Father Parker quotes in the voice he uses for the sterner parts of his sermons.

“But you already pay me for my work at the church, and I told you not to worry about the plate… Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another, for he who loves his neighbor has _fulfilled the law_.”

Father Parker stands there dumbfounded, not expecting Mr. Wilson to quote scripture back to him. He is tempted to continue this Biblical back-and-forth but isn’t sure he can actually win, not with Wade snapping back so quickly. Instead, he decides to poke holes in Wade’s logic.

“You know, that verse can mean something else, too. Such as, do not have debts to others, as in the debt of broken plates, but instead to love your neighbors. So, I’m here to show my neighborly love in the form of new dinnerware.”

Wade stares at him for a moment before he bursts out laughing. “You have to admit that was a bit of a stretch.”

Father Parker shrugs, feeling pleased with himself as Wade wraps the plate back up and gather both parcels, clutching them to his chest.

“But why two of them? Only one was broken.”

“Well… to be honest… I was hoping we could have lunch together one day, instead of you just dropping off food and then scurrying away… and that would require two plates… But only if you want to dine together. I understand if it’s a bit weird to have a meal with your priest.”

Wade smiles and Peter feels weak. “That would be splendid.”

Wade leaves the rectory to find a few garden tools still laying out. He knows he should clean up, but the urge to go home with Father Parker’s gift is too strong. And so he does.

Mr. Wilson clutches the parcels to his chest as he rushes through town and up the dirt road. He only slows to a normal walking pace once his cabin is in sight. As soon as he enters his home, Wade unwraps both plates. He admires them while thinking about when will be a good time to have lunch with Father Parker.

Wade traces his finger over the grape vine design on the plate, thinking of one of his favorite places just outside of town near his previous home. He smiles softly to himself, debating on going back to that place Sunday afternoon when he has no work.

_I should show Father Parker the-_

_No. I can’t. I shouldn’t be this way. I’m acting like we’re close friends already, but Father Parker is just being nice, fulfilling his priestly duties._

Wade frowns to himself as he puts away his new plates.

_He probably only brought up the shared meal out of religious obligation. Best I not bring it up so he doesn’t feel pressured to eat with someone like me._


	8. May 7-17, 1957

One day, Father Parker and Wade are in town helping to purchase planks of wood for the pew repairs. Typically Wade would go by himself and a deacon would later settle the bill with the church’s funds. However, because of the size of the order and all deacons being preoccupied with other tasks, Father Parker is the one completing the transaction himself and is now helping hoist lumber across town with Wade.

They walk back with their supplies in silence. Father Parker tries to come up with a topic of discussion but realizes he has burned through all of his typical small-talk topics on their walk to pick up the lumber. Father Parker is still lost in thought when a child runs out in front of them from around the corner, nearly running into them and startling them both. Peter drops a few planks in the process and quickly scurries to pick them up. He hears someone shouting and looks to see the child’s mother running and picking the child up.

“I’m so sorry, I-” The mother ceases her apology for her child’s misbehavior when she turns and faces Wade. Her eyes go wide and she sets her jaw firmly. Father Parker has never seen someone’s face shift from fright to anger so quickly. “You need to be more careful!” she shouts at Wade before storming off back towards the alley from where the child ran out.

Father Parker hurries to pick up the last plank before standing, quickly stepping towards the alleyway. Wade quickly sidesteps in front of him, spinning around and shaking his head.

“Please, Mr. Wilson, she needs to know that she can’t just-”

“No. It’s fine. It’s easier to just turn the other cheek.” Wade makes a show of puffing out his cheeks before turning his head quickly, back and forth.

Father Parker shakes his head and chuckles, dropping the topic, but the woman’s behavior towards Mr. Wilson lingers in his mind.

Within a few steps from the front of the church, Peter notices several people standing around talking. They all turn towards Wade and Peter as they approach and start staring and whispering amongst themselves, doing little to hide gossipy their behavior. Peter immediately becomes paranoid before having to convince himself that _no one knows._

Feeling uneasy, Father Parker shifts his eyes towards Wade and discovers that he’s walking further away from him, increasing the space between them. The paranoia starts to creep in again when he has a passing thought about the rude mother from earlier. A small gasp escapes his lips as he starts to connect the dots. Peter determines that Wade is worried about the shunning via association issue he once had to live with. Father Parker struggles to move all of the planks of wood he was carrying to one arm, using his now free hand to grab Wade by the elbow and steer him closer.

Wade stares wide-eyed down at Peter’s hand on him, his grip so gentle it’s barely shifting the fabric of his sleeve. He glances worriedly up at Father Parker, who is facing forward but clearly watching him from the corner of his eye.

“No need to veer off, the church is this way,” Father Parker says quietly, ignoring his impulse to slide his hand further up to feel at the muscles flexed from carrying lumber.

Once inside the church, they drop the timber haphazardly on the floor of the room where Wade works. As soon as the lumber leaves his arms, Peter turns to Mr. Wilson, struggling against the question rearing to escape.

Wade starts sorting the wood into piles but can feel Peter’s eyes on him. He glances at him a few times before saying, “Is there something wrong?”

Peter takes a few breaths before replying, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why… why is there so much animosity towards you? I’ve never met anyone so kind in my life, but the town here-”

“Hates my entire existence?” Wade stands. He quickly looks around, mumbling something about forgetting his tools.

“Um, right… it just doesn’t make sense why anyone would treat you this way. I understand the issue with the old priest causing some shunning to happen, but this goes much further!”

“Well… It’s probably because I’m so ugly. People tend to-”

“But you’re not.”

“Don’t give me that-”

“Seriously! You’re not! You may not be conventionally handsome, but I’d still say you’re quite beautiful.”

Wade starts blushing. “Do all priests have to be this nice?”

“No, but they all have to live in truth, never telling a lie.”

Wade stares at him for a moment, not liking the tug in his chest. He looks away before mumbling, “I need to go get my tools.”

He quickly rushes through the church and bolts out the side door. Once outside, he slows his pace, and then walks a few steps back towards the building. He leans back against a wall and slides down, hands over his face.

_This boy is going to ruin me._

_And I don’t even care._

After a moment to calm himself, Wade stands back up with a grunt. “Right. My tools.” He rolls his eyes and makes his way to the front of the church.

_Seriously though. It’s bad enough I’m getting too attached to him when he’s clearly just trying to be a good priest in general. But now he says things like that? How the heck am I supposed to take it? Probably not in the way I originally did._

_There’s no way anyone would say such things about me… not in the manner I want at least…_

Meanwhile, Father Parker is glad when Mr. Wilson leaves to go get his tools. He is being completely honest with Wade, wanting to comfort and encourage him but not with lies. It wasn’t until the words had already left his mouth that he realizes what he has said and the possible implication of it. He stands in Wade’s workroom, surrounded by lumber and the pieces of two church benches currently being fixed. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and groans aloud.

_What is wrong with me? Am I trying to expose myself here? Trying to scare him off when he’s already so timid around the town after years of neglect and abuse?_

He hopes, he prays, that Wade leaving to get his supplies is not a deflection. That he is just dedicated to getting his job done in a timely manner and is not impacted by Peter’s words at all. At least not in a negative way.

But, over the next week and a half, Peter notices a few things a bit off about Wade that indicate that those words have impacted him somehow.

First, when Wade makes eye contact with Peter now, he quickly tends to break it. At first, Father Parker is concerned that something might be wrong with Mr. Wilson. After a few more purposeful attempts at eye contact with Wade, he determines that he doesn’t seem upset, not if the soft, barely-there smile is any indication.

Next, Wade no longer goes to talk with Father Parker whenever he feels like it, despite doing so before, even if he was in the middle of gardening and covered in dirt. He would show up frequently in all sorts of disarray. But now, Peter is seeing less of him. Whenever he does see him, it’s apparent that Wade has at least tried to clean himself up a bit before approaching Peter. He isn’t too sure this is really happening until he catches Wade using the water hose to wash his face and hands before walking towards the rectory.

Father Parker tries to deny that all this is because of his comment earlier in the month, but he cannot deny the last of Wade’s newly adopted weird behaviors.

There are two mirrors in the hall leading to the room where Wade repairs the pews. Father Parker previously noticed that Wade never looks in those mirrors, unlike most everyone else who walks that hall, including himself. It is common grounds for teasing between the clergy, calling each other vain when they catch someone glancing towards one. Yet, Wade never seems to look. On the rare occasions that he does, he neither seems phased, disappointed, or annoyed, once even scoffing loudly at his reflection. But those few times, Father Parker has to bite his tongue against the taunts when he realizes the person he’s caught smiling at themselves in the mirror is Wade.

Today is much the same. Father Parker enters the hall to retrieve something from a back room, when he catches Mr. Wilson stepping out of his work room. As soon as he passes by the first mirror, he pauses and smiles. But when he looks away, he ends up turning straight towards Father Parker, making eye contact. Peter smiles at him immediately, once again fighting against the immediate gibes now ingrained in him.

Wade stares back, clearly embarrassed. He quickly flushes red, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. He tries to look away, but then finds himself looking back at the mirror again. He hurriedly jerks his head back and forth, looking between the mirror and Peter, then groans. Wade suddenly pivots on his heels until he’s completely facing away from both Peter and the mirror, throwing his head back as if he is trying to look straight up at the sky through the ceiling of the church. Father Parker then hears him give a sigh, loud and clearly annoyed, before Wade retreats back into his work room. Peter can’t help the chuckle that escapes him.

_At least he took my comment in a positive way rather than being scared off._

_Though I really don’t need all this extra smiling and blushing. It can’t be good for my heart._


	9. May 30, 1957

Because Ascension Day falls on a Wednesday, Father Parker decides to hold the service that night in place of their typical Wednesday night service. In doing so, he finds himself nearly crawling to bed. He is exhausted from having to deal with such a large crowd, along with communion, so late at night. Father Parker has only managed to take off his shoes and robes when there is a gentle rapping at him door. He rubs a hand down his face in frustration, swaying slightly. He takes a few tentative steps towards the door and greatly considers pretending to be asleep.

_But the lights are still on. So they must already know-_

“Father Parker? You awake?” Wade’s voice came through the door in a harsh whisper.

Peter stares at the door for a moment, a bit excited to hear that voice after not seeing Wade at the Ascension Day Mass earlier. He rushes over and unlocks the door, welcoming Mr. Wilson into his home.

Wade starts talking as soon as he crosses the threshold. “Huh. You’re in your normal clerical clothes? I thought you would have worn your cassock like you usually do for special services… Not that I’m complaining, I like how modern you dress- I mean, well, it’s just, uh… it makes you feel more approachable, you know? Like, a more relaxed attire fits your- your attitude…” Wade trails off feeling a bit foolish. He is being honest with Father Parker since he does like seeing the clerical shirt with slacks rather than the traditional robes, and he does think it is reflective of Father Parker’s open-mindedness.

_But there is no reason to go spilling my guts like that._

Wade stares back at Father Parker, trying to assess the weird look he is receiving.

Father Parker does not realize he has been staring awkwardly at Mr. Wilson since he entered the priory. He can hear Wade speaking but is having a hard time registering the words. He’s too transfixed on the way Wade looks. Typically he sees Wade dressed for work, for manual labor. But now Wade is wearing a suit. The dark fabric is stark against his skin, but the fit is well tailored, shaping around his form in a way that makes Peter feel all twisted up inside.

Wade turns towards him, head tilted in confusion. “Are you okay?”

It is then that Father Parker notices Wade is still wearing one of his typical cotton Henley shirts under the suit jacket. And though this would typically ruin the appeal to most, Peter finds it endearing. Unfortunately, he also finds it distracting.

“Yes, yes… I’m…” Peter trails off, trying to lead the way towards the kitchen table. He attempts to look back over his shoulder at Wade but thanks to his unfocused mind and exhaustion, he ends up tripping on the corner of the rug. He stumbles forward and feels hands around his waist, hoisting him back upright. He feels a blush start to spread but then the hands leave just as quickly as they appeared.

As Father Parker takes a seat, he knocks his knee against the table hard enough to cause it to move. He grimaces at the pain and the embarrassment. Wade slowly takes a seat adjacent to his, hand reaching towards Father Parker tentatively but not actually touching him.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem… off…”

“I’m fine. It was probably just too much blood of Christ at communion tonight.”

Wade giggles and Father Parker struggles against the feelings welling up inside himself. But between that laugh, that smile, and the way Wade’s dressed, Father Parker can’t deny it.

_I’m completely taken in by him._

“Well, I certainly hope you left some for the congregation because you seem to have drained the Lord dry.”

Peter laughs as he holds his head in his hands, feeling a bit more foolish now for being such a fumbling mess. “It was first come, first serve, so…”

Wade laughs louder, holding his sides with his arms as he sits back in his chair. Peter’s laughter dies down a bit as he sees how the fabric of the suit pulls against Wade’s arms.

“In all seriousness, I’m fine. I had a negligible amount of wine. I’m just a bit tired after such a long service.”

“I understand that. Wait… should I leave? Do you need to-”

“No!” Father Parker looks sheepish after raising his voice too loudly. “I mean… no… that’s not necessary.” A part of him wishes he had some wine on hand, both to endure all the embarrassment and to explain it away. He leans across the table, stretching out his hand towards Wade, but Wade is still leaning back away from Peter, arms folded across his stomach.

“You sure?” Wade quirks his brow at Peter.

“Yes, yes… it’s fine…” Peter sits back in his chair. “Now tell me, what made you decide to dress up for such a visit this late in the evening?”

Father Parker feels a bit of solidarity at the way Mr. Wilson’s cheeks start to flush.

“I, um… I’m not actually sure… I mean, I got dressed for church, and seeing it was a special mass, I decided to try and dress up a bit more, but…” Wade picks at his cuffs where they have frayed over the years, before looking back up at Peter. “I really don’t know why I’m here in your place. I just felt a great unease with the whole Ascension Day and the communion, so I started to walk, and- and I guess I ended up here.”

“I see, but… it sounds like you had planned on attending tonight?”

Wade nods and looks down at his suit, tugging at the lapels. “I thought that since things were getting better I could go, but then everything started to hit me. I feel… I feel… well, silly, in this… as if some imported fabric I keep in the back of my closet can mask my scars. And then I remembered communion and realized I should have tried to go, and I wanted to, but I just… I just don’t think it’s right…”

“First off, there’s no need to _mask_ your scars. They’re a part of you and you are fine as is, though I do have to admit that suit does fit you well.” When Wade smirks and starts to open his mouth, Father Parker quickly presses on. “Second! Second… what’s this about communion not being right?”

Wade shrugs. “I don’t think I’m allowed to partake… not with my mistakes in life… not with my life in general.”

“As long as you confess and repent, mistakes will just be a part of the past, not something that can hinder you from participating in communion. If you abide by the Seven Sacraments, you-”

“That’s the problem… I struggle with Penance…”

“Do you… do you just not go to confession? I don’t recall if you’ve ever-”

“No. I don’t. There are things I could _never_ confess, and even if I could, even if I could believe that you would not judge me and abandon me for my sins, and convince me that God will forgive me… _I_ still can’t forgive myself.”

Father Parker sighs deeply, raking a hand through his hair a few times until he notices Wade’s eyes following his movements. He swallows the lump in his throat before he tries to speak, but finds he doesn’t have any words. He has never expected Wade to show up suddenly and reveal that he struggles with penance because of the severity of his guilt over his sins.

_But he initially didn’t say ‘sins,’ he said ‘mistakes.’ So, is he just punishing himself for mistakes? For accidents? For things that are not even mortal sins that require confession?_

Before Father Parker can find the right words to say, Wade leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and speaks again. “In the instructions for communion, the Bible starts with discussion about community, about how the people coming together as a church are not doing it for the better but for the worse, and the issue with divisions among the members. Then it goes on to say, ‘Let a person examine himself then and so eat of the bread,’ so on and so forth until it mentions damnation because you partook unworthily, but it’s the examine part… and I have… I have examined myself and I’m not fit. Not when _I am_ the cause of the division. Well, at least some of it, but the point is, I acknowledge my role in the turmoil of the church and-”

“No. Stop that! Stop talking like that!”

Wade gapes at him, a bit surprised at the sudden outburst. Father Parker ignores his shocked expression as he reaches over and rests both hands on Wade’s sleeve. “You’re literally speaking nonsense right now because your only role is that of a victim of bad church policy. Yes, there’s still division in this church, as much as it pains me to say. I _am_ trying to make it better, and it’s not a quick process, but please know that you are not to blame.”

“But I-”

“NO!” Peter squeezes Wade’s arm briefly for emphasis. “And I better see you at the next communion or else you’ll have to get over that penance issue real fast and explain to me in the confessional booth why you skipped out again.”

After a short, breathy laugh, Wade says, “Fine, fine. I’ll just see you at confessional then. Maybe.”

“Wade! Seriously!?”

Mr. Wilson laughs. “Just like it’s going to take the town time to get over their divisions, it’s going to take me some time to heal from these wounds. The wounds in here.” Wade points to his chest. “Not these,” he says, gesturing wildly to his face. “These are staying apparently.”

Father Parker just shakes his head in response, unable to keep up with the pace of the conversation going from jest to heart-breaking to morbid humor in such a short amount of time.

_Is he always like this? Just all over the place?_

Wade starts to stand, and Peter withdraws his hands. “I’m not sure I’ve helped much. I’m sorry.”

“No, this was good. I do feel less confused about everything. Church, communion, even whether or not this looks completely dumb,” Wade tugs at his suit jacket. “So, thank you.”

After Father Parker bids him goodnight, he finds that he’s no longer completely exhausted. Instead, he’s wide awake with concerns for Wade, to the point that his prayers are entirely focused upon him. Peter falls asleep in the middle of asking for peace for Wade, for a healed heart, for him to smile and laugh more because he feels welcomed and loved-

_And if there’s anything I can do to make that happen… please, Lord… please…_


	10. June 1-13, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading so far!
> 
> I just wanted to let you know that after today, I will start my 60+ hrs/week life again, so I'm going to have to post only once a week (on Fridays) for a while.  
> Hopefully once my workload starts to die down, I can do a twice a week posting schedule. But for now... see you all on Friday!

Since his visit, Peter has been thinking about the way Wade’s kept surprising him with his understanding of scripture. More specifically, he’s thinking about Wade’s retorts on the night he came over with concerns about being allowed to partake in communion.

Communion homilies are easy to craft since people always seem to forget the stipulations, such as examining oneself to prevent damnation from eating and drinking unworthily. So, Father Parker intends to construct a last minute homily centered around those reminders without going too deeply into the theology. However, not only does Wade remember all the stipulations, he knows those verses by heart.

Father Parker is curious to see how far Wade’s biblical knowledge extends, if he would be willing to help Peter with constructing his sermons from time to time, or at the very least provide a second opinion on clarity. Peter has been toying with the idea of finding someone outside the clergy for this task so he doesn’t have to turn to one of the deacons as frequently. He knows it is part of the job, but he does not have the best relationship with the deacons and would rather decrease the number of tense interactions.

A week after Ascension Day, Father Parker is in the church working on his next homily. He hears someone approaching from behind, but he can already tell by the hesitant steps that it’s Wade.

“Could you look at this for me?”

When there is no response, Father Parker turns in his chair to see Mr. Wilson standing in place, searching around for the person Peter is obviously talking to.

“Wade. Yes, you. Could you read this quickly for me?”

Wade gives him a startled look and rushes over. Before Father Parker can pull out the paper in question and point to the lines of interest, Wade is already leaning over him, brushing up against his arm.

“What do you need me to read?” His voice is far too close, and Peter takes a steadying breath.

“Here… these lines right here… do they make sense?”

Father Parker watches from the corner of his eye the way Wade’s mouth moves slowly as he reads, as if shaping every word.

“It sounds good to me… why?”

“Anything peculiar about the verse?”

“‘For I know the plans I have for you… plans to prosper you and not harm you…’ I mean, it seems to fit with the rest of the lines.” Wade sits up, no longer leaning too close to Peter, and Peter feels the loss of heat.

“Is that all?”

Wade looks torn for a moment before he blurts out, “If I’m being completely honest, I feel like you might be forgetting some of the stipulations. First off, the verse right before that mentions that he’ll do this after SEVENTY YEARS IN BABYLON. They must pay their dues before-”

“Ah-ha!” Father Parker stands up suddenly, startling Wade. “So, you _do_ know your Scripture quite well!”

“Uh… yeah…?”

“Do you… do you think you can help me with my homilies from time to time?”

Wade stares at him wide-eyed and quickly backs out of the room, “I don’t think I’m cut out for such a job. Sorry, Father.”

Wade is jogging off before Peter can argue with him about it, but he hasn’t given up hope yet.

The following Monday, Father Parker goes out into the garden while Wade is watering the plants. Mr. Wilson smiles and waves but quickly frowns as Peter says, “I’d still like for you to help with the homilies.”

“I don’t think I’m up to par with-”

“You’ve proven yourself plenty knowledgeable so don’t let that be a hang-up for you. I’m not asking you to write or to read aloud. I just need a second opinion sometimes, for clarity and whatnot.”

Father Parker can’t help but stare as Wade toys with his bottom lip between his teeth, deep in thought.

“I guess I could help. But I should let you know right now that my knowledge becomes more limited the closer to the back of the Bible we go.”

“Oh, so a fan of the old testament then?”

“No, more like I cannot read parts of my Bible because… well… there’s a bit, I’m not sure… a bit of _damage_ , of sorts.”

“Ah… I see… Well, still bring it by on... let's say... Thursday morning? Just in case.”

Wade nods in response and goes back to tending the garden.

_First the garden right by his home, and now helping with work. What is with all these close interactions!? Not that I mind, but I just don’t see… how does someone like him want anything to do with someone like me?_

Thursday morning, Father Parker is startled awake by loud knocking on his door. When he sits up and finds himself sideways in bed, he realizes he made the mistake of sitting down again sometime that morning and promptly falling back asleep.

He rushes to check who is at the door, only opening it a crack since he has yet to change into his priestly attire. When he sees it is Wade standing there, rocking back and forth on his heels, he immediately opens the door the rest of the way.

“Wade! Good morning!”

Wade gives him an odd look before reaching towards Father Parker. “Seems like _your_ morning hasn’t even started.” He tugs at Peter’s thin cotton pants, the ones he only wears in the privacy of his home. Wade quickly rubs the fabric over his fingers as he tugs, but the force of the entire act is stronger than expected. Peter can feel the fabric pull against his hip and thighs; his waistband slips just a little as it is yanked towards Wade.

Just as quickly as Wade has reached out, he lets go. But the thoughts of Wade pulling Peter closer until he is in his arms, those thoughts stay for quite some time.

Father Parker vaguely gestures to the kitchen table, mumbling for Wade to take a seat as he goes to get changed, and hopefully find a way to stop blushing.

As soon as Father Parker exits the room, Wade holds his head in his hands. Breathing out sharply, he mumbles, “I can’t believe I… that I…”

Wade shakes his head, reminding himself to control his hands more.

_I seriously doubt Father Parker would want me touching him._

Once they are able to begin working, Father Parker finds it a lot easier to focus. Wade doesn’t offer much in terms of suggestions to the structure and message of the homily, but he is attentive and encouraging and at this point, Peter will take it.

Halfway through, Father Parker is double checking something in his Bible when he recalls Wade’s weird and almost cryptic comment about his Bible being too damaged to read certain parts.

“Did you bring your own Bible by chance?”

“Yes, I did… but, it’s not in the best condition…” Wade spares a glance at Father Parker but quickly looks away once their eyes meet.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Peter giggles at the way Wade widens his eyes and scoots his chair closer, acting very much like the older ladies in church who are privy to the local gossip. “My first day in town, I had _barely_ set foot on the ground when I ended up flinging one of my Bibles into the air. I couldn’t catch it, and it landed in mud. I can barely close it now because of the water damage and there are several pages stained with mud.”

Wade smirks at him and says, “I think I got you beat.”

He leans over and pulls out a Bible from his bag, and Father Parker lets out a loud gasp.

“What… What happened!?”

With a shrug, Wade says, “Just some effects of war.”

Father Parker completely ignores the singed bottom edge as he points to the giant gash that is about a third of the way down the top, going from cover to cover. “This looks like it was stabbed!”

“It was. Like I said, effects of the war.”

Peter opens the book and quickly thumbs through the pages. He knows what is coming, he can see it on the edges of the pages, but his heart still sinks the closer he gets to the back of the Bible. There is some sort of brownish-black stain seeping through the pages, centering around the stab wound. Father Parker is certain it is blood but is too afraid to ask. It isn’t so much the question that concerns him, but the risk that his assumption might be right. He carefully flips to the end, to Revelation, and can barely make out the giant ‘21’ on the edge of the stain, nonetheless the actual scripture.

_There is no ‘New Heaven’ nor ‘New Earth’… There is only blood now._

Peter sees Wade’s hand slowly reaching over, and he allows him to take his Bible back.

“Yeah, that whole book is a bit hard to read. Along with Jude.”

“I- I can see that!”

Wade goes back to reading the last page of the homily as if the previous conversation did not happen. Father Parker, however, can’t seem to focus on his work just yet. As soon as Wade has taken back possess of his Bible, Peter has a fleeting thought regarding something nice he can do for Mr. Wilson, but it disturbs him.

 _Why did I think that? I mean, yes, giving him a new Bible would be nice but why did I… one of my own? And_ that _one, too? I could never part with that one, but I feel… I feel compelled to… I feel like he needs it more than me… But why!?_

Wade then asks Father Parker a question, effectively drawing his attention back to the task at hand.

Once both men feel that the homily is ready for service, Wade leaves to tend to the garden. As he steps out the door, he cheerfully says, “See you soon, Father Parker!”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that.”

“Wh-what? But, I mean, that’s who you are and I-”

“True, but as much as we see each other, in and out of church, I don’t think you should keep calling me ‘Father Parker.’ We’re friends now, Wade. So, you can call me ‘Peter’ if you’d like.”

“Oh… okay…” Wade smiles dumbly as he replays Father Parker’s words.

_I can’t believe it. I finally make a friend after all these years… and with a freaking priest!_

Wanting to try out the name as soon as possible, Wade rushes off towards the shed while shouting over his shoulder, “See you soon, Father Peter!”

Peter starts to correct Wade but then decides to let it slide all because of the giant grin that spread across Wade’s face at the mention of the word ‘friends.’


	11. June 26-28, 1957

It has been over two months since Wade first made lunch for Father Parker. Since then, he has dropped off meals a few more times during Father Parker’s extremely stressful days, using his new plates. But this still involves Peter dining by himself as he works.

Peter has begun dropping hints that he is free for a meal. Each time Wade starts to say he will join him for lunch, he can never seem to get the words out. Part of him is unsure if he’s reading into Father Peter’s comments too deeply. The other part of him is worried about the logistics of it, mainly that he doesn’t want to bring Father Parker to his cabin. It is one of the few places he feels safe from the townspeople. He trusts Father Peter, but he’s not sure he can trust him that much yet.

Eventually, Father Parker tells Wade that he can use the rectory’s kitchen to cook if he ever needs to. Wade simply gives him a puzzled look, but he’s already thinking about the implications and plotting how to ask Father Parker to have lunch with him one day.

Peter waits for a moment for Wade to reply. When he’s met with more silence, he clarifies with, “You know, so you don’t have to carry food and flatware from your home. If you would ever like to just join me for lunch or possibly-”

“Yes!” Wade feels foolish when he’s startled by his own outburst. “Yes, I can… I mean, if you’re free, and would like to, I can come over one day this week and…” Wade trails off, making nonsensical hand gestures.

Father Parker breathes out a laugh. “Yes, I would like to. Want to have dinner in two days?”

Wade bites his bottom lip as he grins, nodding fervently.

On the last Friday in June, Wade shows up to the church with multiple bags slung over his shoulders. Peter’s curiosity is at its peak, but he has to get back to work and knows if he asks, it will start a lengthy conversation he would not want to end. Instead he just unlocks the rectory, allowing Wade to use his kitchen as he goes back to work inside the church.

Meanwhile, Father Parker cannot focus. All he can think about is Wade being in his home right now, making them dinner. He is curious to know what exactly Wade is making. He wants to watch him cook, see how he is able to make all those delicious meals.

But a part of him is also worrying unnecessarily. Mr. Wilson has free reign in the clergy house right now, meaning he can look at any of Father Parker’s personal possessions. There is no way Wade can find any clues to Peter’s past, but Father Parker can’t help but feel the paranoia creep in from time to time. He takes a moment away from his work to calm his mind, praying he can move past his sins.

But Father Parker is not entirely wrong in his paranoia. The temptation to look around is so strong that Wade fully intends to do so at some point. However, he has tasked himself with a meal a too large to allow a lot of spare time for snooping around right now. The most Mr. Wilson can do at this moment, is snoop the kitchen but that is mainly to find the supplies he needs. The thought to look around next time does pass through his mind as he starts setting the table.

When Father Parker is finally done with his tasks and able to leave for the day, he bolts through the church doors and rushes home. He takes the steps up to the clergy house two at a time. He barely cracks the door open when he’s hit by a delightful smell. Something rich and new and absolutely _delicious_. He stands in his doorway, breathing hard from his jog. He cranes his neck towards the kitchen to stare at Wade, who is in the middle of setting the table. He looks up at Peter and grins broadly.

“Just in time!”

Wade rounds the corner of the table and pulls out a chair, gesturing for Father Parker to take a seat. He then quickly runs towards the radio, turning it on, but keeping the volume low. Peter can barely hear the staticky sound of Renée Lebas’ ‘Sur Ma Vie’ playing. Wade is already back to the other side of the table and sitting by the time Peter makes it to the table.

Father Parker pauses for a moment, sitting slowly because of the distraction. He had expected something like the dishes Wade usually brings around, some kind of grilled or baked meat, with one or two garden veggies on the side. So he is a bit astonished by the spread. There is a large pot filled with some kind of stew, herbs resting on top of giant chunks of meat; a side of glazed carrots; a side of green beans with onions and spices; a bowl of greens from the garden, drizzled with some kind of fragrant red dressing; and a small pile of the most golden rolls Peter has ever seen.

As soon as Father Parker manages to take a seat, he opens his mouth to ask about the meal but Wade cuts him off.

“Shall I say grace?”

“Um, yes! Please!”

Father Parker clasps his hands to pray but startles when Wade suddenly places his hands firmly down on the table, on either side of the plate. Wade bows his head and starts praying, so Peter instinctively closes his eyes as well. But he can’t get Wade’s hands out of his mind. He quickly peeks his eyes open and stares, watching Wade’s hands resting on the table. Father Parker’s eyes dart from those hands to Wade’s face, making sure his eyes are still closed.

Peter pauses for a moment before he slowly unclasps his own hands. He begins to lower them down onto the table as well. When his palms are flat against the wood, he tries to inch his hand forward, unsure of how far he’ll go or if this is even a good idea in the first place. He pauses and thinks of the repercussions, imagines how he would explain it away to Wade if their hands ended up brushing against each other in mid-prayer, when he hears, “In Your Name, Amen.”

Peter snaps his head up and pulls his hand back right as Wade looks up. Wade simply claps his hands together, rubbing them briskly, before saying, “Ready to dig in?”

Father Parker only manages a nod before Wade partially stands from his seat, leaning over the table to serve Peter from the giant pot in the middle of the table.

“What’s this?”

“Hasenpfeffer.”

“Hasa-… what?”

Wade chuckles as he starts filling Peter’s plate with sides. “Hasenpfeffer. It’s a German rabbit stew. Well, German as in where the dish originated, not German as in the rabbit’s country of origin. Pretty sure the rabbits are French since I caught them this morning.”

“Wait, you _caught_ the rabbits yourself?”

Wade nods.

“So this is _wild_ rabbit stew!?”

“I suppose so.”

As Wade sits and starts to fill his own plate, Peter stares down at his dish.

 _This is probably the most homemade meal I've ever had. Pretty much everything he grew or_ caught _himself. It’s rather touching but… but I feel a bit weird eating_ wild _rabbit for some reason…_

Once Wade’s plate is filled, he starts to cut a chunk of rabbit meat. He brings it to his mouth but freezes before he takes a bite, watching Peter.

“Is something the matter?”

Father Parker shakes his head.

“Don’t tell me you've never had wild rabbit before?”

“What? No! Can’t say I have.”

Wade gapes at him for a moment before swiping the bite of rabbit through the gravy and holding his fork out towards Peter. “Here. We’re fixing that _right now_.”

Father Parker stares at the fork, watching how Wade shakes it slightly trying to encourage him to take the bite. Peter gives in and leans forward, taking the food into his mouth. He bites down on the chunk of rabbit meat as Wade drags the fork back. As he slowly chews, Wade quirks his brow at him, looking eager for a response. Peter simply nods and make an attempt at an affirmative noise, not wanting to speak with his mouth full.

Wade grins and starts cutting another chunk for himself. Peter wants to speak up, to tell Wade just how delicious he found the rabbit, but is sidetracked once again. He watches as Wade uses the same fork to take own his bite, how the prongs press against his plump bottom lip as he slowly takes it out, moaning lightly at the taste of the food.

“Damn good if I do say so myself.”

Normally Father Parker would reprimand him for his cursing or roll his eyes at the egotistical joke, but he finds himself sitting there uncomfortably with a spike of jealousy over a kitchen utensil.

_Get a hold of yourself, Peter! He’s a man and you’re a priest!_

“You know… I find it hard to believe that you’ve never had rabbit before. I mean, most of the rabbit dishes I know are French. Probably more French rabbit dishes than all the other rabbit dishes I know from other countries.”

Father Parker shrugs, grateful for the distraction. “I’ve had rabbit from time to time when growing up, but it was never because we caught a wild rabbit ourselves. And I’ve never had a German dish before, not that I know of at least.”

“Ah… I probably should have asked first if you-”

“No, no! This is fantastic. Honest.” Peter hates the tug in his chest when Wade beams at him. “So, tell me, how do you know all about Germany and other cultures and hunting rabbits, and, well, everything?”

Mr. Wilson starts telling Peter how he was all over Europe as a child and teen, and later as a soldier, so he was exposed to a lot of cultures. He knows a bit of the languages and a lot of the cuisines from the different countries of his travels and starts to describe how he had started hunting for food when he was in the military.

Father Parker tries to pay attention, he really does, until Wade’s hand moves far too close for comfort. Peter has his left hand resting on the table as he slowly eats, listening to Wade’s story. Then suddenly Wade slaps his right hand down on the table for emphasis but never removes it. He continues to chatter on, waving around a roll he is eating with his left hand as he speaks, but his right hand remains at the center of the table a mere seven centimeters from Peter’s fingertips.

Father Parker keeps glancing back and forth between their hands and Wade’s oblivious face. Peter subtly shifts his hand closer and closer, now only three centimeters away. He feels two of his fingers twitch, lifting up slightly, and he wonders how it would feel to have his fingers interlock with Wade’s, the callouses from all his hard labor brushing past his knuckles as he gently squeezes Peter’s hand. As Wade talks about the food he misses the most since moving here, Peter edges his hand closer, now less than a centimeter away. He tries to slowly lift a finger, but finds himself unable to move his hand, neither closer nor further away from Wade’s. Father Parker knows that their few moments of physical contact has never been skin-on-skin. He’s suddenly paralyzed by the thought of being so close to that and it scares him. Not just the thought of touching Wade but realizing just how much of his skin he wants to feel.

Wade pops the rest of the roll into his mouth as he speaks and starts coughing on it. He quickly removes his hand from the table to pat at his chest a couple of times. Father Parker finally becomes able to free himself from his paralysis and slowly pulls his hand back, but the thoughts still linger.

“Sorry about that,” Wade wheezes out a bit sheepishly.

“Oh, not at all. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good. So… do you ever plan on going back? Or visiting all those other places again?”

“I mean, I do go back sometimes for work, but usually I’m too busy to take in all the sights and the grub.”

Father Parker has the urge to ask him about his work again, but he senses he may get a deflecting answer as usual, killing the pleasant mood of their evening. Instead he lets it slide and both men resume eating and chatting, their hands staying on their own sides of the table the whole time.

Afterwards, Wade volunteers to wash the dishes. Peter tries to make light conversation with him as he stares at Wade’s arms, moving and flexing as he scrubs the large pot. He ends up having to tear his eyes away as he continues their discussion. This only changes his lustful thoughts to ones of jealousy, wishing he could have more domestic moments like this.

As Wade finishes the dishes, Father Parker starts to dry them, scrambling to put them away. Wade watches him from the corner of his eye as he scrubs out the last pot. There is a fleeting thought that Father Parker looks cute as he struggles to rearrange the plates. Wade quickly turns away and begins scrubbing at the pot harder.

_There I go again, misconstruing my attraction. There’s no way I can… I can’t… I shouldn’t feel that way about him, or anyone for that matter. But especially not Father Peter. He’s just trying to be the best priest possible, and he is. So, he doesn’t need me to sully his kind intentions._

When Wade packs up to leave, Father Parker feels an emptiness inside himself – a similar emptiness he felt when Harry had to depart for the night – and he hates it.

He hates how all these feelings are starting to resurface. They are a bit different this time, but he knows they are still just as sinful. He hates how he can’t tell if his compassion comes from a genuine heart, from pity… or from attraction. He hates how guilty he feels about all of this, as if all his weeks and months of penance were for naught.

But most of all, he hates how this is so one-sided. Wade isn't struggling, not having to fight an ever-growing temptation. And perhaps, luckily for Peter, he knows not of Father Parker’s feelings, or more accurately, his sins.

As soon as Father Parker bids Wade a good night and closes the door, he immediately rushes into his bedroom. He pulls his favorite Bible from the shelf, bending the backing until he can slip out his hidden letter. All the while murmuring to himself – a Hail Mary first, but then a more personal prayer. A desperate prayer of penance.

Peter takes Harry’s letter – his only possession to remind himself of their history together – and brings it into the kitchen. He frantically digs through a kitchen drawer until he finds some matches. Slamming it shut with his hip, he lights a match over the sink. An unsteady breath escapes him as he picks up the letter, moving it closer to the flame with a shaky hand.

His chokes back a sob as he mumbles out another prayer. He watches the letter burn, hoping that it can somehow burn away the transgressions that still haunt him.

As the flames get too close to his fingers, he drops what remains of the letter. He looks down into the sink, hoping to watch the last corner of the letter become ash, but is met with a different sight.

The flames are doused by a small puddle of water leftover from when Wade had washed the dishes just minutes before. He feels his breath catch for a moment before a strangled gasp finally escapes him. He fights against the tears that start to well up as he begins to tremble.

Father Parker stares at the now soggy piece of paper, edges singed and a few words still visible.

_I… I couldn’t do it… I wasn’t able to burn the letter, to rid myself of it…_

_I’m… not able to burn away my wickedness…_

He falls to his knees as tears break through.

_Even now, Wade manages to keep me in my sin._


	12. Jun 29-Jul 5, 1957

The next day, Father Parker tries his hardest to forget about Wade, to keep his mind focused on his work instead. But this only causes him to think of Wade more, especially when he notices that Wade has not shown up to do any maintenance or garden work.

The following day Father Parker looks over the congregation several times, taking his time to scan the back rows, but he does not see Wade in attendance. As Peter waters the garden that night, unsure if he’s providing enough, he secretly hopes that Wade will show up running like he normally does whenever he’s late, but he never appears.

Peter has every intention of keeping Wade off his mind in order to prevent sinful thoughts from trying to creep in. Ever since he was hired to work for the church four months ago, Wade has always warned Father Parker when he will be out of town. Yet, Peter has not received such a warning this time.

His worry only grows as the days drag on. By Friday, it has been a week since Father Parker last saw Mr. Wilson. Because he has no other obligations that afternoon, Peter gives in to his urges and goes to find Wade’s house to check on him. All he knows is which dirt path leads to Wade’s home, but he doesn’t know how far up the road it is or if there are any other turns to make. Even so, at this point, it is a risk he wants to take.

As Peter walks, he soon comes upon a creepy looking shed near the edge of the road. The wood is warped from years of exposure to the elements. Most of the paneling and half of the roof are now long gone. It is then that Father Parker realizes that he has not seen any other structures, sideroads, or anything else besides rocks, trees, and the dirt road. Father Parker suddenly feels unsafe as he tries to subtly check his surroundings.

_Does Wade really live in such isolation?_

He treks a little further until he finds a path leading off the road towards a house. Father Parker initially has to do a double-take, unsure if he really saw a house tucked away behind all the trees. He mumbles out a prayer as he cautiously walks up the narrow clearing to get a better look at the building. The sides are all bricked up but the front, especially the porch, looks to be a cabin. Just off the porch are a couple of buckets, all with various plants growing out of them.

_This has got to be his…_

As Peter walks towards the porch, he hears whistling coming from the other side of the house. He pauses, debating on whether or not to go around the building, when Wade steps around the corner, walking slowly. He’s holding something in his hand and chipping away at it with a large hunting knife. He doesn’t seem to notice Peter, who hesitates on calling out to him because of the knife so close to his fingers, not wanting to startle him and cause injury.

Luckily Wade looks up without being frightened. He immediately stops whistling and quickly hides the knife behind his back. “Father Parker, what are you doing here?”

“Wade, we’ve talked about this before, about the name-”

“Right… Father _Peter_ , how, um, how’d you know where I live?”

Peter rolls his eyes at the name. “It’s the only house on the road so far.”

Wade gives him a worried look and Peter continues. “I felt like checking on members of the congregation, so I’m just going around, saying hello, that sort of thing. You know, the thing the deacons do from time to time.”

“I… I actually didn’t know that… that they did such a thing…”

Father Parker doesn’t know what to say. Part of him wants to reprimand the deacons immediately, but there’s a part of him that believes that Wade doesn’t mind being left alone at home.

“Even so… that’s nice of you. Who all have you seen so far?”

Father Parker can feel himself blushing already. “Just you. You’re my first stop. Now tell me, what’s with the knife?”

Wade slowly lowers his arm, knife still in hand. He walks up to the porch, grabbing the sheath for it. He puts the knife away before sitting on the top step. “Sorry about that. Was just trying to fix something.”

“Oh, no need to apologize,” Father Parker says as he goes to sit down next to Wade. “What were you trying to fix with a knife?”

Wade opens his other hand, revealing a carving of a crucifix. Peter leans over and takes a better look. He is astonished at how detailed it is so far, especially being done with a large hunting knife.

“How on earth did you manage to write “INRI” so tiny with such a massive knife?”

“Oh, that? I used actual carving tools for that. I only had that other knife out because I was trimming up the back.” Wade flips the crucifix over and shows rough, jagged cuts all along the back of the cross. “I use whatever is on hand to get the basic shape, then add details with the right tools later.”

“But why are you making this? Do you make crucifixes often?”

Wade nods. “Actually, I do. I make these, those small rosaries, and the like for any child in need I see on my travels.”

Father Parker feels overwhelmed with pride and compassion, resisting his urge to hug Wade.

“This, however, is strictly for me.”

Wade reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rosary, one that’s missing a crucifix. He holds it up high and gestures for Father Parker to hold out his hands. Peter hesitates for a moment, but as soon as his hands are below the rosary Wade lets go, allowing it to fall into Father Parker’s palms. As Peter runs his fingertips over each bead, carved to look like a rose bud, Wade says, “I made it myself, but the crucifix snapped the other day while I was working. I just got home not too long ago, but this was bothering me so much. I wanted to fix it before I headed to the church. Speaking of which… I’m sorry, Father.” Peter turns towards Wade and watches him slump, hanging his head low. “I should have let you know sooner that I was going to be gone for a bit, but it was a last-minute job and there was really no time. I’m real sorry I just up and vanished like that.”

Father Parker feels relieved, thankful to know that Mr. Wilson isn’t trying to avoid him after all.

“Oh, these things happen. I’m just glad to know you’re safe.” The way Wade glances up at him, grinning slightly, causes Peter to avert his eyes quickly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “But now that you’re back, I have another task for you. I mean, the church does. The church has another task for you.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“I- We… we would like for you to do some ornate carvings for the church.”

“Really!?”

“Of course. Between this rosary and the carvings you did in the window panels of the shed, I think you’d be great at adding some décor to the church, maybe even fixing up the ones we already have that aren’t quite standing up to the test of time.”

“That’s- That’s great! I’ll do it! I have one last pew to fix, but after that I can start.”

“Great! Thank you.” Father Parker risks looking back at Wade again but finds that Wade’s wide grin is no match for his heart.

Father Parker sits with Wade as he finishes up the crucifix, using a smaller knife and some tools Peter doesn’t recognize for the last few details. Once done, Peter drops the rest of the rosary into Wade’s hand so that he can reattach the crucifix.

Peter attempts to compliment him on his craftsmanship and the beauty of the rosary, but Wade doesn’t seem to hear him. Father Parker shrugs it off and just looks around the porch, assessing how Wade lives here, out in the woods, all alone.

“Hold out your hand.”

Peter startles but complies. Wade drops the rosary into Father Parker’s hand once again and says, “Since you seem to like it, you can have it.”

“But, Wade, I-”

“It’s fine. I want you to have it.”

“I do appreciate it… but… I’d much rather trade.”

“Trade?”

Father Parker nods fervently. “I will graciously take this but only if you allow me to give you a new rosary in return.”

Wade considers him for a moment, not saying a word.

“I can go back to the church right now to get it. It’s from the Vatican.”

“The… _The Vatican_?” Wade whispers, appearing a bit starstruck. He agrees, saying he’ll walk with Father Parker back to the church, so he can get started on that final pew right away.

As they walk, trailing down the dirt path passing no other homes, Father Parker asks Wade why he lives there all alone. He secretly prays that it has nothing to do with the church or being ostracized.

“Oh… well, that is… was my friend’s home. She used to live there all by herself. And after she passed, I felt like I owed it to her to keep the place since she… since she was… she was so nice to me…” Wade trails off at the end, voice so small that Peter could barely hear him.

Father Parker glances over and is taken aback by the pained look on Wade’s face. “I’m so sorry to hear about your friend, but I’m sure she’s watching from heaven, glad that her home is so well taken care of by someone with such a huge heart.”

Wade gives him a soft smile, but the pain was still clear in his eyes. Suddenly, the smile turns into an evil grin. “Actually, I’m not entirely sure she’s in heaven…”

Father Parker gasps and faces forward, walking in silence until Wade starts laughing loudly.

Once they make it to the church, Father Parker steps into his office and grabs the rosary he received from the Vatican during his trip there three years ago. He places Wade’s hand-carved rosary in its place. He goes to finish the trade, but finds Wade standing outside the office instead of in the back room where he’s been repairing the pews.

Peter hands it off to him, watching the way Wade runs the beads between his fingers, jaw dropping in awe. He feels himself starting to blush again and decides to slip back into his office to busy himself with work as a distraction. But within seconds, there’s a knock on the door.

“Father, I thought you said you were going through town today, visiting the congregation and whatnot.”

Peter stares at him for a moment before he recalls his lie from earlier.

“Right! Yes! I, um… I just wanted to check on a few things before I headed back out.” Father Parker straightens out the stack of papers in his hands, setting them back down carefully on his desk before slowly sidestepping past Wade and slipping out of his office. He hesitates before leaving the church altogether.

_Lord, is having to play nice with the whole town in one day my penance for lying?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I wrote a bonus scene for a mini-event ([Priestmas in July](https://spideypoolpriestfest.tumblr.com/)). It takes place between the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next.
> 
> So if you want more handyman (himbo) Wade content, be sure to check out ["Giving in Secret"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25501852).


	13. Jul 20, 1957

One Saturday morning, Father Parker is leaving his priory when he spots Wade already tending to the garden. They make idle chatter for a while, talking about their tasks for the day and the weather; Father Parker’s typical conversation topics with anyone who works for the church. But as soon as the small talk ends, Wade points out the dark clouds on the horizon and says, “Since you’re not from around here, you should know… around this time of year we tend to get sudden downpours. So all this talk of sun is only fleeting.”

Peter stares at the clouds, watching them move as Wade points out how the mountains are already in shadow because of them. Peter expresses his wish for them to dissipate soon before excusing himself to the church.

That afternoon, the clouds are already over the town and blocking the sun. It suddenly feels much later in the day due to the dreary atmosphere. To Father Parker, the rain seems imminent, so he rushes home to take care of a few things before returning to work. As he hurries off, he nearly bumps into Wade just outside the church. He fumbles out an apology, but Wade simply gives him a startled and confused look. After Father Parker tends to the priory, he hastens back towards his office, spotting Wade still standing at the front of the church.

Wade tilts his head a little as he stares before blurting out, “What’s with all the running?”

“I thought it was going to rain, so I needed to set out a few bowls, just in case.”

“Bowls? Just in case? …For the rain?”

“Yes, it seems there’s a leak in my roof, so if it does end up raining, I need to have something set up to prevent it from ruining the floors.” Before Wade can comment on it, Father Parker adds, “Sorry, but I really must get back to work.”

As Father Parker toils away, the weather outside remains ominous, the threat of rain constant but never fulfilled. It isn’t until a few hours after darkness has settled over the town that the rain starts, and when it does, there is no gradual build. Peter hears the downpour almost immediately, and within moments, he also hears the familiar **_tink tink tink_** of rainwater dripping through his ceiling into the three bowls and pots he has placed in the corner of his living room.

Father Parker resigns himself to reading at the kitchen table, partaking in a late evening snack. The rhythm of the rain lulls him closer to sleep while the jarring sound of the leak keeps him awake. Over half an hour passes before he’s greeted with a third noise: a loud knock on his door.

Peter startles and ends up throwing his book across the table. He clutches at his chest as the knock comes again. He quickly stands and rushes to unlock the door, wondering who would need a priest during a storm. As he swings the door open, Wade immediately brushes past him, stepping inside the rectory.

“Wade! What are-”

“How’s that leak?”

“The leak? I mean… it’s just a leak… so…”

Wade can hear the sound of the dripping water as he walks towards the corner with the largest leak while Father Parker trails off. He stares up at the water-warped ceiling, rubbing his chin. Soon Wade raises his hand towards one of the dripping parts, mumbling something about a draft. Peter looks back and forth between the ceiling and Wade until Mr. Wilson finally glances back down at him with a pitying look.

“You have an extra room behind this wall, right?”

“Uh, yes, how did you-”

“They added it a year ago, probably less, and I think they didn’t do the best job of sealing up the gap. And now the damage has made its way through.”

“So… so what does that mean?”

“It means I can fix it. Well, just give it a decent enough patch job, though, it might not be the prettiest. But it will take an entire day or two, and we’ll have to wait until the wood’s dry.”

“Oh… well, at least it can be fixed later.”

“Right. Although… I _can_ stop the current leak right now and hopefully prevent further damage,” Wade says as he heads towards the door.

“But how?”

“Just got to do a temporary patch up on the roof.”

Peter rushes towards him, running past until he places himself between Wade and the door. “I cannot have you going out there in this storm, climbing up on a _roof_ , and risking sickness and injury!”

“Tell me, Father, have you been experiencing this leak since moving in?”

Father Parker gives a noncommittal shrug.

“That’s what I thought. You probably asked about it, but the repairs kept getting delegated to someone else, just like the repairs on the church. Am I correct?”

With a heavy sigh, Peter nods. “But, it’s fine, honestly. We’ll just wait 'til it’s dry enough and-”

“You’ve done enough waiting. If no one else is going to help you maintain the rectory, I will.”

“No!” Peter does not mean to raise his voice, but he cannot control his fear concerning Wade’s safety over something he deems trivial. “I cannot let you risk the storm and-”

“And I can’t have you getting sick before your sermon!” With a sudden lunge forward, Wade invades Peter’s space, causing him to step back until he’s just barely touching the door. Wade reaches past him and firmly grips the handle.

“But-”

“Father! Please…”

Peter feels himself shrink back a little at the sternness of Wade’s voice.

“Father Peter, you remember how you had to invite me _into_ the church?”

Peter nods.

“Obviously, I only sat outside to feed my soul, but going to church wasn’t exactly a fun time for me. In fact, even before the scorn and such, I didn’t really enjoy attending church, though I did believe in the message. Truth is, I’ve never looked forward to going to church until you came here.”

Father Parker remains leaning against the door as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Wade is clearly taken in by his capabilities as a priest, and Peter feels pleased by that. But he also feels a bit… he isn’t sure what to call it. It is almost like envy, but for himself. Envy for the man of faith side of him that managed to attract Wade’s attention when the human side of him wants that attention as well.

“So, please, let me at least patch the roof enough that there’s no more leak or draft.”

Peter opens his eyes and nods, sliding to the side so Wade can leave. He catches the door as Wade tries to close it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Wade smirks at him before raising the hood of his jacket. “Just pray, I suppose.”

Father Parker sucks his teeth at the joke. “Fine, fine. Do hurry! But safely! And please come inside once you’re done or if it proves to be too dangerous!”

Wade has already slipped into the darkness, but Peter can still hear him laughing before he says, “Of course, Father, don’t worry!”

Father Parker goes back to reading, finding it difficult when he’s too worried about Wade standing on his roof in the storm. Within minutes, he hears a loud banging sound from the living room. He rushes into the room, pausing when the sound happens again. Then again. It takes him a moment to realize that Mr. Wilson is probably just hammering something up on the roof and nothing bad has happened.

_Well, not yet. Let’s just hope it stays that way._

Around ten minutes later, Father Parker notices that though the storm is still as strong, the dripping has been reduced greatly, only a few sparse drops every now and again. Soon, there is a gentle knocking on the front door. Peter rushes to open it, ushering Wade inside.

Wade shakes his head. “I’m a bit soaked, and I don’t want to drip everywhere.”

“But-”

“Is it still leaking?”

Peter shakes his head. “No, it’s practically stopped now.”

Wade grins broadly. “Great!” He turns and runs off, saying, “See you tomorrow!”

Father Parker squints out into the darkness but is unable to see Wade once he rushes down the steps of the rectory. Sighing heavily, he closes the door.

Peter ends up struggling to sleep that night between the sound of the storm, now with lightning and thunder, and the strange feelings welling up in his chest regarding Wade. He stays up far too late trying to process everything, how Wade walked all the way here and back in the storm for Peter and his sermons, how Wade seems so much happier these days around him and the church, but mostly how Father Parker wishes all of this was more tied to him and not to the church.

He tries to push the thoughts aside, knowing that wishes like this will only allow sin to creep in. He has made his mistake and already paid the price for it.

_And I won’t let the same thing happen to Mr. Wilson._


	14. Jul 21-22, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what's this? A new chapter posted 5 days early!?  
> Yeah.   
> Just trying to put more pressure on myself to finish editing the rest of my chapters for my betas. Fingers crossed that this works.

The next day, Father Parker looks out over the congregation but doesn’t see Wade anywhere. The rest of the day is packed with other duties and there is a special evening mass that night that required a lot of preparation. So, while Father Parker keeps busy, he remains worried about Wade in the back of his mind, praying that he hasn’t gotten sick and battling the desire to go check on him. Try as he might, Peter can barely manage the time to worry about Wade nonetheless check on him. When Wade doesn’t attend evening Mass either, Father Parker decides he should probably check on him first thing the following morning if he doesn’t show up for work.

As soon as Peter wakes up, he peeks outside towards the garden. He waits for a moment as he makes himself a cup of coffee, but Wade doesn’t appear. He checks the church, mainly Wade’s unofficial work room, but spots no one aside from Deacon Lasalle.

“I’m going to step out. Do you need anything before I go?”

Deacon Lasalle narrows his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. “No… I... I think we can manage for a while. But where are you off to?”

“I, uh…” Peter fumbles for a few seconds before saying, “I’m just making a few house visits. Providing a few blessings. That sort of thing.”

When Deacon Lasalle nods and returns to his own work, Father Parker rushes home, a bit unsure why he does not just tell the truth. He is worried about Wade’s sudden lack of attendance, unsure if he’s just out of town or if he’s sick in his cabin with no one to take care of him.

Father Parker rushes home and empties out a small basket he uses to hold produce from the market. He fills it with bread, lemons, honey, and a thermos of freshly brewed tea. He also packs a small napkin filled with dried tea, in case Wade needs more than what the thermos can provide. He trudges up the dirt path towards Wade’s home. Once again, he doesn’t spot anyone on the way there. When he knocks on Wade's door, there is no response. Waiting a moment, he tries knocking again and grows worried when he hears nothing from inside. He debates on whether or not he should try the door and see if it’s unlocked, when it suddenly opens.

“Father Peter! It _is_ you! What are you doing here?”

Father Parker is a bit taken aback, not certain if Wade would even be home nonetheless able to provide such a chipper greeting.

“I, um… I just wanted to check on you. I thought you might have been sick because of the storm and since you weren’t in church yesterday.”

“Oh… OH! Right…”

“But you seem fine now.”

“I, um… yes, well, I tend to heal pretty quickly… I was out cold yesterday, but I’m right as _rain_ now.”

Father Parker rolls his eyes.

“So, uh, what’s with the basket?”

Peter hesitates, feeling a bit embarrassed now that he knows Wade is not sick. “I had packed a few things in case you were ill. Tea and such, but-”

“That’s terribly kind of you.”

Peter half-expected Wade to laugh at him, so he’s pleasantly surprised to see Wade smile instead, opening his door further and stepping to the side. He gestures for Peter to come inside.

“I don’t see why we can’t partake even though I’m not sick.”

It isn’t until Father Parker crosses the threshold that he realizes he had no expectations for what Wade’s home might look like on the inside.

 _But even if I did… I don’t think I could imagine_ this _._

Father Parker’s eyes dart all around the massive room, unable to settle on any one spot. He notices that the kitchen is part of the room rather than being separated by a wall like in the rectory. However, even after trying to ignore that portion of the room, there is still too much to take in. Nevertheless, Father Parker attempts to absorb every little detail that may give more insight into the kind of person Wade is but only finds himself confused.

There are trinkets and tchotchkes everywhere, most of which don’t make sense to Peter. When Wade closes the door, Peter looks back towards him and notices a white cane and house slippers far too small for Wade by the door. He worries for a moment that Wade may not live alone after all, but he convinces himself that maybe Wade has a reason for such items before tearing his eyes away. He scans the room and believes he sees two swords mounted above the fireplace when Wade calls out to him. Father Parker turns and hurries towards the other side where the kitchen is.

Wade makes a childish grabbing gesture with his hands, and Peter passes the basket over. As Wade starts unpacking the basket, he pauses with each item, holding them up one at a time, as he gives it a contemplative look. Without saying much else, Wade begins rummaging around his kitchen.

“What, uh… What are you doing?”

“You’ll see!” Wade sing-songs in response.

Typically, Father Parker’s inquisitive nature would make him want to prod a bit further, but there is too much to be curious about when it comes to Wade. So he opts to keep quiet and just examine the clutter in Wade’s kitchen.

After a few minutes, Peter finds himself sitting at a table sipping tea and eating sandwiches made with chicken, goat cheese, arugula, and tomato. Father Parker takes one bite and moans, feeling embarrassed when he sees Wade’s eyes go wide as he stares at him. He feels himself start to blush as he notices the flush on Wade’s own cheeks. He tries to quickly cover it up by complimenting Wade on the food, pointing out the freshness of the vegetables.

“Well, the arugula isn’t as fresh as you would think.”

“Didn’t you just pick it? Along with the tomato? I know you have a small garden in-”

“The tomato, yes, but… Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Peter glares at him, knowing the difference between Wade’s serious confession voice and the one he uses in jest, like now. “I actually took the greens from the garden outside the clergy house. How many Hail Marys will that be?”

 _Wait… that’s… that’s actually_ theft _… though, I really don’t mind, since it’s just the garden and it’s supposed to be for the community as well… and he’s part of the community…_

“None. Just get me more tea, and you’ll be forgiven.”

Wade chortles and promptly pours him another cup.

After their meal, Wade clears the dishes, saying, “So I’ve noticed you keep stealing glances all around the room…”

“Um, yes, well, it just seems so… I’ve never seen a home decorated in such a manner.”

Wade laughs loudly. “That’s a nice way to put it. I know it’s a bit cluttered. I tend to be a little… overly sentimental with items and not the best at cleaning up after myself, to be completely honest. Anyways… what are your obligations for the day?”

“Just typical priest duties but not ‘til after lunch, why?”

“Care for a tour?”

Father Parker assumes they would just do a lap around the room while Wade points out the occasional item. He forgets that this is not how Wade functions. Instead, Wade leads Peter all around the living room, darting back and forth randomly. He tells Peter stories of where he received all his unique souvenirs from his travels, but in his excitement of an interested house guest, Wade would at times interrupt himself to start another story about an object across the room.

Father Parker is tempted to ask Mr. Wilson about his job again, knowing that he’ll more than likely get a dismissive answer as always. This temptation only grows with each story, each bit of foreign intrigue, and especially after Wade starts reading lines from books and words off of labels in languages Peter can’t even comprehend.

At one point, Father Parker starts becoming invested in a tale about an orphanage in Bulgaria when Wade suddenly shouts, “That’s right! That’s also the time I received these!”

Wade immediately places the small box back on the fireplace mantel and bolts to the other side of the room. Before Father Parker can catch up, Wade starts a new story about a cordwainer while pointing out a pair of unusual dark green boots by the door, right next to the thin white cane and far too small house slippers. Father Parker knows it is best to keep to one’s self and not be pushy, especially with someone like Mr. Wilson. However, Peter’s curiosity had peaked far earlier, causing an internal battle with his professional side that is slowly losing. With this reminder next to the house slippers, curiosity finally wins.

“So, are these a memento from your travels as well?” Peter asks, gesturing to the items in question.

“Ah, those, no…” Wade picks up the cane, rolling it in his hands. “Remember how I said this house used to belong to a friend?”

Peter nods, feeling a bit foolish for not realizing that some of the items in the house might have belonged to this friend Wade has previously mentioned.

“Well, we all called her ‘Blind Al,’ as if the walking cane and her inability to see anything weren’t dead giveaways. But I just keep these around to remember her by, plus a few other little things.”

“I’m sorry,” is all Peter can manage after a terribly long minute of silence.

Wade shrugs. “Eh. She passed a while back, and she was old anyways. We knew it was coming.”

Peter is at a loss for words. Thankfully, Wade then suggests they head back into town so that he can get started on the roof while Peter tends to his work.

Throughout the rest of day, Father Parker struggles with the haunting sound of Wade’s voice.

_I have never heard him so sad before, even when talking about his terrible history with the church. This Al of his must have meant the world to him if her loss is greater than Wade’s unjustified solitude._

During a lull in his work, Father Parker sneaks out to visit the cemetery. He hopes to find Wade’s friend and to pray for her, perhaps even let her know what a delight Wade is and how helpful he is to the church. However, Peter cannot seem to find any gravestone that might indicate a female individual whose nickname is ‘Al.’

Father Parker wonders if she might have been buried in a family grave outside of town, perhaps not being originally from here like Wade is himself. He tries to brush all his theories aside when he suddenly recalls a comment Wade made not long ago.

_He said… she’s… probably not in heaven…_

Muttering a quick prayer, Father Parker fights against the pain now laying heavy in his heart. About an hour later, Peter leaves for home and finds Wade finishing up the roof. The thought to ask about Blind Al’s grave not being in the church cemetery quickly fades as Wade rushes down the ladder, his pace too quick for Peter’s comfort.

“Come over here!” Wade shouts once he leaps off the second to last rung on the ladder. “I want you to see my work!”

As Wade details how he accomplished the patch job on the rectory, Peter realizes he cannot bring himself to ask about Al.

_He just seems so happy and proud of himself. It’s like he actually wants recognition for his work, which he never did with the pews, shed, or anything else._

_I can’t risk dampening his smile._

Instead, Father Parker simply grins while commending Wade on his craftsmanship, making the large man beam harder. Peter then thanks him for his hard work before bidding him a good night, determined to shelve the topic of Al until he gets to know Wade better.


	15. Aug 1-18, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hate to say this but I'm going to have to take a mini-hiatus for a little bit. February is one of my busiest months, with 60+ hour weeks and only 3 guaranteed days off in total.  
> At the absolute latest, the next chapter won't be posted until the **21st of February**. However, once this month of hell is over I will try and see if I can up the frequency of the posting schedule to maybe twice a week. Keep your fingers crossed and send me all the positive vibes you can over the next few weeks!

As Wade works on repairing the church to be in peak condition while adding ornamental elements, Father Parker sometimes wanders around the building admiring the work that’s been done so far. Though Wade is typically good about finding work for himself, Peter will also occasionally look for other necessary repairs.

Today, Peter finds himself wandering towards the two-story side of the church, beyond the sanctuary and offices. The lower level is comprised of rooms that are used for the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine classes for children. The upper rooms are used as temporary offices, archives, and storage, all of which are reasons why Peter tends to be unfamiliar with this part of the church. Aside from personal reasons, there is never a need for the priest to be in these rooms, only the deacons and heads of various church committees.

While he slowly makes his way up the stairs, Father Parker doesn’t notice much in need of repair. Plus, the lack of usage in this part of the church means there is less need for ornate decorations. Peter begins to wonder if there is even a need for him to check this area of the building when he finds a potential safety issue. As he reaches the top landing, he feels a shift in the railing under his hand. He tentatively pushes on it, and it moves slightly beneath his palm. He shoves a little harder and it moves enough for Peter to witness it with his eyes. Though it doesn’t break or crumble and still remains upright, there is too much give for Father Parker’s comfort.

He hurries to find Wade in the garden pulling up carrots. He jogs until Wade notices him, dropping the vegetable in his hand and standing upright, a worried look on his face.

“Is everything okay?” Wade asks, as he pulls out a handkerchief, wiping roughly at his face.

“For now, yes. But… if you have a moment, could you please-”

Wade is already exiting the garden before Father Parker can finish asking his question. Father Parker leads him through the church, describing the situation. When he tells Mr. Wilson that he would like this to be repaired immediately before resuming any other tasks, Wade agrees with no question.

As they walk up the stairs, Father Parker explains how he’s going to do a safety inspection as soon as Wade checks the railing, just in case there are more hazards that need their attention. At the top landing, Father Parker trails off, turning slightly to make sure Wade is watching him. When Wade stops on the stairs and gives him a curious look, Peter jostles the balustrade, showing Mr. Wilson how loose it is.

“It’s not terrible, but I’m afraid an accident could be imminent if we neglect it for too long. Besides, the children’s CCD takes place below, and if one of them were to come up here and-”

“They will need a sturdier barrier to keep them from falling over, until their instructor can retrieve them and bring them back to class,” Wade says, testing the stability of the railing for himself.

“Exactly. So, if you wouldn’t mind-”

Peter’s words are cut short as he tries to step back, giving Wade more room to assess the rail. The landing is split in two directions, a hallway on either side. However, the landing slopes drastically towards the newer hallway, and Father Parker has forgotten about that. It is only one step down, but he cries out in fear as he feels himself stumbling backward.

“WADE!”

Wade lunges forward, grabbing him around the middle and pulling him back upright. His hands slide down to hold Father Parker by the hips as Peter clutches at Wade’s upper arms, trying to calm his nerves.

“Are you alright?”

Peter takes a few deep breaths as he nods, feeling foolish for almost falling over like he did. He briefly tries to console himself for forgetting the flooring issue in a part of the building he doesn’t frequent, but his thoughts are cut short by Wade.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wade whispers, stepping closer, hands still on Father Parker’s hips. “Peter?”

Father Parker is no longer sure if he is okay. There is too much for him to focus on, such as the use of his name without the title; the large, warm hands holding him upright; the flex of Wade’s muscles under his own hands; and Wade, beautiful Wade, inching closer even still. Wade speaks once more, but Peter barely registers it, his eyes darting to the movement of Wade’s mouth.

At this point, Father Parker isn’t sure what is going on anymore, why they are standing so close, but he’s certain that he doesn’t want it to stop.

He is intrigued by it all, especially this ever-growing attraction to Wade, who seems to only know how to spur it along. But there is also something else here, something he didn’t ever feel with Harry, and Peter is dying to see if he can figure out what that is.

“Just give me one moment, I believe it’s upstairs!”

At the sound of the loud voice and the pounding of the steps up the stairs, Wade suddenly lets go of Peter, stepping back. Father Parker does the same, stumbling a bit over that sloping step that caused this mess in the first place. He grips the banister and awkwardly pulls himself upright, just in time to see Deacon Lasalle jogging up the stairs. When Lasalle reaches the top, he pauses a moment, nodding to both Wade and Father Parker. Before either of them can react, Deacon Lasalle darts off into the first room in the other hall. He quickly returns with a book, rushing back down the stairs as he calls out to someone. Even though they can no longer hear the deacon, Wade and Peter remain grounded where they stand, breathing hard, and looking tense.

 _We wouldn’t have moved like that if we didn’t think it was wrong. Wrong to be in such a compromising position and_ especially _wrong for me since I know what I was thinking and feeling while in such a position with him._

Father Parker lets go of the balustrade, flexing his hand when he realizes how hard he has been gripping it. He smooths out his shirt as he lets out a long, shaky breath. “I think… I think I should go do that safety check now…”

Wade snaps his head back towards Peter. He watches him for a moment before giving a slight nod and asking, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I-I’m fine, but…” Peter takes a deep breath, reminding himself of the reason why he has been sent to this small town in the first place. “But I think it’s best if you don’t… if you just… You might want to stay away, but in a-”

“I knew it,” Wade says quietly.

As Peter gapes at him, Wade reflects on the words that escaped his mouth without permission.

 _I didn’t know it, but I should have. I must have been a_ fool _to think that he- that anyone could ever-_

“K-knew what?”

Wade squares his shoulders, determined to face this as bravely as he did the last time he was told to stay away. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you started feeling… feeling the same way towards me as the rest of the town. Wanting me to keep away and-”

“NO!”

“No? No?! Sure sounds like-”

“No, I swear, it’s not!”

Wade crosses his arms across his chest defensively, but the pain is still clear on his face. “You sure about that? Because-”

“No! It’s not that! _Never_ that, trust me! It’s quite the opposite… It’s… it’s me… If you do that… I’ll then want…. You’ll…”

Father Parker makes awkward gestures with his hands, trying to tell Wade not to touch him again. Yet at the same time, he can’t bring life into those words, not when there is a part of him that wants it again. Then Wade raises his brow in a questioning look and makes his own twirling hand gesture to encourage Father Parker to continue speaking. Peter gives up with the gesturing, his arms suddenly going limp and slapping against his thighs. He sighs heavily and closes his eyes.

“I cannot say, but believe me when I tell you that your salvation is safer away from me.”

The second the last word falls from his lips, Father Parker regrets it. He waits for a response but is only greeted by the sound of the creaking stairs. Peter opens his eyes slowly and manages to catch a glimpse of Wade descending the staircase. He opens his mouth to stop Wade, but no sound comes out.

_Probably for the best. I’m not sure what I could say at this point without making matters worse or exposing myself._

That evening, Wade finds himself replaying the conversation in his head over and over again. He lays on his bed, shaking, though he is not sure if it is from sadness, fear, or one of the other emotions tearing away at him.

“Honestly, I probably deserve this,” Wade says aloud, imagining the snark Blind Al would be giving him in response. “I went from admiring him as a priest and mentor to developing a… well, it doesn’t matter now… He clearly will never see me as even a friend nonetheless anything more than that…”

Wade looks down at his shaky hands as he tries to steady his breath.

_Did I eat today? Is that it? Just hunger?_

Though it may be a contributing factor to his trembling, Wade knows that he is ultimately trying to push his feelings aside. He stands from his bed and shuffles towards the kitchen.

Within ten minutes, Wade is standing in front of his stove cooking dinner. He’s not sure what he’s making, having just thrown random items into the pan to sauté. Reducing the heat, he pours a bit of wine into the pan. Wade then lifts the bottle to his lips, pausing for a moment before setting it down.

_I’m just making myself more depressed. It’s my own damn fault. I set myself up. I should have known better than to ever hope that I… could be…_

He tries his best not to finish the thought, to force it out with noise and clutter, talking to himself and Al as he continues to cook. Wade has felt such feelings of admiration and fondness before, but has refused to admit it to himself, afraid that he would only get hurt. And even though he now realizes that pain can still happen despite all the denial, he still cannot bring himself to confess it.

For the rest of that week, Father Parker does not see Wade, though he can hear him working on the stairs in the back of the church. Peter was too afraid to go speak to him, unsure of what he could even say at this point. He decides he will wait until he happens to cross paths with Wade and just pray that the right words find him in that moment. However, by the end of the week, Father Parker realizes that Wade may be avoiding him intentionally. Based on their last conversation, Peter doesn’t blame him for keeping away.

_I asked him to, and he complied. He always complies. So… why am I so upset by it?_

He is upset because he hopes that despite it all, Wade will at least show up to service, but he doesn’t.

This sadness only grows as Peter finds himself tending to the garden alone for the entire next week. And once again, Wade isn’t at church the following Sunday.

That subsequent day, Father Parker decides to go check on Wade at his home. He thinks of the words to say, how to apologize to him, running the lines over and over again in his head as he makes his way up to the house. However, Wade isn’t there. Peter paces the porch, wondering if Wade is just pretending not to be home because of what Peter has said, or if he is really gone.

Then Peter notices the plants on the porch. Their leaves are drying out in the late summer sun and the soil is bright in color and loose.

_How long have they gone without water? How long has Wade been gone?_

As Father Parker goes to find water for the plants, he considers that there may have been another last-minute job. Though, it is nearing two weeks since the last sign of Wade at this point.

Every day that week, Father Parker waters the rectory garden before taking a pitcher of water up the road to water the plants on Wade’s porch. And each day, he wonders when Wade will come back. When Wade misses the third Sunday in a row, Father Parker starts wondering if Wade is even considering coming home one day, and if so, is he still alive and well enough to do so.

Father Parker previously thought it was painful having Wade being so close to him but unable to act on the feelings he tries so hard to suppress. With Wade now gone, he feels a whole new type of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed the note at the beginning, I'm going to have to take a mini-hiatus until Feb 21st at the absolute latest.  
> For information about upcoming posts you can [check my posting schedule](https://sendadoc.tumblr.com/postschedule). You can also check any of my [social media pages](https://sendadoc.tumblr.com/socialmedia) for information about my progress on different events and projects (both art and fic); changes to the schedule (fingers crossed for early end to the hiatus); the occasional bits of sneak peaks, trivia, spoilers; etc.


	16. Aug 22, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a small break at work and decided to go ahead and post the next chapter since it's ready.  
> However, I'm still technically on hiatus since my work load continues to exceed normal daylight hours. So no guarantee if the next chapter will be posted on the 21st or 28th of this month. Sorry!!  
> But hopefully this chapter will satiate you all for a while until the next one appears.

The Thursday after Wade’s third missed Sunday, Father Parker once again goes to water the plants for him like he has done every day for the past ten days.

As he turns onto the small path that leads to the house, he freezes in his steps, not expecting to see Wade. Mr. Wilson is sitting on the front porch and fiddling with something on top of a table that was not previously outside. Peter has a sudden urge to drop the pitcher and run the rest of the way towards Wade, to hug him and hold him tight, ask him where he’s been, demand that he doesn’t leave again without warning, and plead with him for forgiveness.

He does none of these.

Instead, he simply takes several hesitant steps forward, clutching the pitcher carefully to his chest as if trying to use it to ground himself. As he approaches the porch, Wade finally picks up the item he was tinkering with. A lump forms in his throat, and Peter feels himself grow faint. He freezes right as Wade looks over at him, gun in hand. Wade quickly lowers it onto the table, pulling a towel over it.

“Glad to see you’re back!” Father Parker is trying his best to pretend that he didn’t see the gun, but he can hear how his voice shakes.

“Right, I-” Wade tries to nudge the gun aside subtly, but instead ends up pushing it too far and it falls from the table. They both startle at the loud clatter, Wade quickly reaching down to retrieve the fallen weapon.

“Is that… a souvenir from the war?” Father Parker hopes his slight chuckle will help ease the tension, but as soon as it escapes his lips he realizes how nervous and uncomfortable it sounds.

Wade nods. “Yeah… it’s a souvenir…”

Peter steps closer. “I’ve never seen one like that before.”

“Oh, well, it’s German for one thing.”

“G-German? Why do you-”

“What are you doing here anyways?” Wade cuts him off with a harsh glare.

Peter holds up the carafe as he approaches the porch. He starts pouring the water out over the flowers, saying, “I was trying to keep your garden afloat while you were away.”

Wade stands up quickly and hops off the porch. He grabs the carafe from Father Parker, holding it away from his make-shift garden. “They’ll be afloat for sure if you keep watering them like that. I thought it had rained nonstop while I was gone.” To prove his point, Wade tilts one of the buckets to the side, a stream of dirty water pouring out.

Father Parker clasps his hands to his mouth, eyes wide at the puddle of water now by the porch steps. “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to overwater them. I-”

Wade grins and laughs loudly, causing a painful tug in Father Parker’s chest. “It’s not that serious. They’ll be fine.” He hands back the carafe to Peter. “So… is that… is that all you’re here for? Just watering my plants for me?”

“Well, no… I was hoping you might have come back. I’ve been coming here to see if… Wait a minute. Where exactly have you been if you didn’t know if it had rained here or not? I mean, you had to be pretty far away to not know we’ve had a bit of a dry spell.”

“Ah, yeah, I… I got, um, contracted… on a little mission. Had to meet with someone a bit ways out…”

“A bit out? Like over the hills or…”

Wade rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably as he climbs the steps, sitting back down in his chair. “Yeah, I was actually in Austria, believe it or not. So, I’d say that’s a bit out there.”

“Gracious, that’s far! What do you even do?”

Father Parker immediately regrets his question when Wade gives him a look he has never seen before. It was a mix of fear, regret, and pain, but in his eyes, a bit of excitement. “I basically… wow, this is hard to describe… I help relocate people? Yeah, relocation. Sometimes there are people who don’t belong in certain places, and I help to put them where they _do_ belong.”

“I… I know nothing about that line of work. I don’t think I even heard of anything similar before.”

Father Parker suddenly remembers that he himself was marked as not belonging and then subsequently relocated by the church, but he felt no need to amend his earlier statement.

Wade’s brow raises as he looks away, peeking at the gun on the table. “That does not surprise me at all. Most don’t. Especially not… well… most just don’t.”

Peter swallows down the lump that was forming in his throat. He has come here every day to water the plants for Wade, secretly hoping that he would see that Wade had returned home like he did today. But now that it’s happened, Peter is struggling to move on to what he really wants to talk about. He now knows that Wade was on a job, a ‘mission’ as he said earlier, but he still wonders how much of his absence is related to the job and how much was related to Peter’s last words to him. He isn’t even sure how much of their conversation Wade remembers or if it will be safe to bring it up.

“So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said.”

“What I said?” Father Parker is relieved he does not have to awkwardly bring up an old fight himself, but he also begins to panic, realizing he isn’t quite ready for this talk they must have.

Wade nods and gestures towards a small wooden stool off towards the side of the porch. Peter quickly climbs the steps and sets the carafe down on the table. After dragging the stool closer to Wade, he takes a seat, feeling his pulse start to rise.

Father Parker watches as Wade takes a deep, steady breath, closing his eyes slowly. They remain closed as he begins to speak. “When you were telling me to stay away, you said something about how my salvation would be safer away from you.” Wade peeks an eye open at Peter before continuing. “What did you mean by that?”

Wringing his hands together in his lap, Father Parker quickly prays that he will say everything he needs to in order for Wade to feel welcomed in the church again, in their community, and especially around himself. “First of all, I want to apologize for what I said that day. It was honestly a bunch of nonsense, and I couldn’t get my main point across to save my life. I’m sorry for any pain that it might have caused you. You do not need to stay away, and I would, in fact, be quite sad if you did. So that… That was all on me.”

Peter jerks his head towards Wade when he hears him clear his throat. He watches as one of Wade’s legs bounces quickly in place, a nervous habit Peter has noticed in others before but never with Wade.

“And the part about your salvation. I feel that I might… I don’t… I don’t think I’m doing a good job as your priest. I believe I’m allowing-”

Peter stops his words short when Wade quickly spins around in his chair, leaning far too close to him for comfort. “What are you talking about? You are literally the best priest I have ever met! You… you don’t…”

Wade trails off when Father Parker places a hand on his shoulder.

“I mean that I’m only human, and I have my flaws. And I felt that those flaws were starting to affect you and your salvation. I felt that I could not honestly continue to lead you down the path of righteousness but would instead cause stumbling blocks along the way.”

Wade inches closer. “But that’s just life. Things happen. We stumble and fall and stray… I don’t know what was going on with you, but I assure you, my faith has never been stronger!”

Father Parker feels torn at those words as he slowly pulls his hand away from Wade. He is glad that a member of his congregation has such strongly rooted faith even with a history of adversity. But there is a part of him, buried deep inside, that feels heartbroken by it. He realizes the implications of such faith through his teachings like with his own temptations. If Father Parker had given in to his carnal feelings, he might have ruined Wade’s belief altogether.

“Need I remind you that I was serious about looking forward to going to church ever since you arrived.”

“Since I arrived? Really, the day I showed up into town and-” Peter stops sassing when Wade rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in defense.

“Fine, no. Not since you _arrived_. But since you made it abundantly clear that you wanted me as part of the church, since you started showing compassion toward me, and since you started making me feel like I belong somewhere for once in my life.”

Father Parker goes back to wringing his hands together as if that would get rid of the guilt he feels. He works hard as a priest to ensure Wade will feel one with the community, but his own sinful fantasies have interfered with that.

_I don’t know why I keep having these thoughts. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same. He’d probably just be disgusted with me if he knew…_

_I need to do right by him. I can’t allow so much progress to become undone. This is where he belongs, and I can’t let my sin get in the way of that again. This is my burden, not his, and he shouldn’t have to deal with the repercussions of sins that are not his._

With a deep breath, Father Parker asks, “Is that how you really feel?”

“Of course!” Wade’s voice is low, almost desperate.

“Then are you going to start coming back and helping in the garden?”

Wade grins broadly. “Of course, and I promise to fix any more stairs that need it as soon as I come back.”

“Glad to hear it… Well I must be off now. I have a terrible amount of work to get through today.”

Father Parker bumps into the table as he stands and barely registers what Wade says in response. Instead, he stares at the gun that slid slightly on the table.

“Do be careful with these things, they’re absolutely frightful.”

Wade gives him a sheepish look.

“I will see you in church on Sunday, correct?” Father Parker asks, not looking back as he walks down the stairs and along the path to the main road.

“Depends.”

Peter halts in his tracks and snaps his head around to see Wade smirking at him, cleaning cloth back in hand already.

“Depends? What do you mean ‘depends;’ depends on what?”

“Depends on if you let me cook dinner for you Sunday night.”

Peter can’t help the grin spreading across his face and the flush appearing on his cheeks. “Fine, but I don’t want rabbit.”

Father Parker feels a bit relieved to hear the confidence coming back to his voice already.

Wade nods in agreement and waves as Peter starts to depart again. He watches after him until he can no longer see him through the tree line. After a brief pause, Wade continues to clean his gun, trying to get all the mud out of it from his last job. He waits a full ten minutes after Peter is out of sight before he lays his head down on the table and sighs heavily.

“Dinner? Did I seriously ask him to dinner?”

_And the kind soul just immediately agreed, not realizing I had blurted it out with completely different intentions. Intentions I should not be having about him, especially since he’s my priest._

Wade groans loudly in frustration as he sits back upright and gives his gun a final inspection. However, his mind is still on the dinner invitation.

_Fuck._

_I’m in too deep._


	17. Aug 25-31, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was sick for over a week, so my month of hell has been extended by that much time.  
> However, I'm off of hiatus just enough to start posting weekly again. Just gotta wait a little bit longer until we can bump up the frequency of posting just a bit.  
> Thank you for your patience!

Wade arrives at the church grounds that Sunday several hours earlier than usual. He plans on getting a head start fixing up a few things, and if time permits, pulling the vegetables and herbs he needs for their dinner that night. However, as he approaches the church, he notices something quite odd. There is a black car parked by the entrance, a tire up on the lawn.

Wade is taken aback for a moment. He’s seen cars before and even driven a few, though it wasn’t always the smoothest ride. To see one in their little village is strange and almost unnerving. Even just outside the village, there are still hardly ever any automobiles, not until you’re almost halfway to one of the major cities.

_Didn’t realize how old-fashioned and isolated this place is until I’m shocked by modern transportation. Wonder if the rest of the congregation is going to start a witch hunt because of this contraption on holy ground._

After rolling his eyes at his own joke, Wade recalls that there are a few families on the far side of town, where the wealthier people live, that have their own vehicles, mainly to drive out of town, not through it.

As Wade slowly approaches the church grounds, he wonders if Father Parker has ever had a motor vehicle since he’s from a major city. Wade can’t recall if Father Peter ever mentioned driving. In fact, he doesn’t even know what city he’s from.

_I should know a simple fact like that at this point, right? How have I not… wait… I can’t._

Though his own curiosity is overwhelming, he knows that if he pries into Father Parker’s past, he will no longer think it fair of himself to dodge all of Father Parker’s questions about his own.

Wade shrugs it off and turns towards the walkway leading to the church garden. As soon as his foot leaves the main path, Father Parker comes rushing out of the church, fully garbed in his traditional cassock as if for a special Sunday service.

_What is he doing? He’s never awake this early._

He watches as Father Parker turns and runs towards the clergy house. Father Parker glances over at Wade as he runs, doing a double take before stumbling to a stop, almost falling down in the process. He stares at Wade before sprinting towards him. Wade jogs to meet up with him, a bit impressed with the priest’s speed, especially with the length of his robes. A part of him is still mostly confused at seeing a priest run like that in the first place.

With panting breath, Father Parker glances back at the church several times and says, “We have a problem. I have to cancel dinner tonight; I’m sorry about that, but we have a problem.”

Wade feels his heart sink at the mention of their dinner plans, but he moves past it to more pressing issues. “Whatever the problem is, I will try my best to help you.”

Father Parker gives him a considering look before he says, “How do you feel about cooking dinner after all… but for another priest, well, a priest-almost-bishop… and the archbishop and a cardinal.”

_I usually understand his humor but… I don’t get this joke…_

“Wade, stop gaping. I’m serious! They’re here and I-”

“They’re here!?” Wade hisses, looking past Father Parker towards the church, hunching in on himself as if he and his sins could hide behind Peter’s smaller frame.

“Yes, they’re here. They said they would check in on me from time to time, but this time they did so without warning.”

“Why would they check in on you? It’s not like you did anything wrong to… warrant… such a…” Wade trails off at the slight grimace on Father Parker’s face.

“I wouldn’t say that. If you think about it… we are all mortal and have done wrong at some point in our lives.”

Wade swallows, a sudden paranoid thought creeping in. He worries that Peter has found out where he was these past few weeks and what he does every time he disappears from town.

“But could you? Could you make dinner for them, for us? I-”

“Yes, yes, of course! Now stop talking so frantically and go,” Wade awkwardly waves his hands around. “Go do what you need to for your service. I’ll take care of dinner, so don’t worry about it.”

Father Parker gives him a small smile before nodding. “Thank you.”

Wade immediately turns and runs off towards the town when he hears Father Peter shout, “Where are you going?”

“I said don’t worry about it! Just leave your door unlocked, okay?”

Wade doesn’t look back or wait for a response. He rushes home to get a few supplies. He quickly grabs a few of the larger pots and pans, some ingredients, and his favorite chef’s knife. He opens a cabinet and reaches down towards the bottom shelf, pausing for a moment. He picks up a rather large bottle of cognac, one he uses to cook with sometimes, but his initial intention in buying it was to numb the pain of feeling trapped in a world that would never accept him. He stares at the bottle, struggling to remember the last time he took a swig, going back several months in his mind.

_Did I even take one sip after being hired by the church?_

_The church… Shoot! This is no time to-_

Wade roughly places the bottle into a bag, along with a bottle of wine and a bottle of olive oil. He races out his door, clutching the bag to his chest as he sprints down the dirt road. He then rushes to get a couple more ingredients from the few stores that are open, hoping to make it back without being late so as to not draw attention from the higher standing men of the cloth. He’s still a bit wary of clergymen in general, but he mainly does not want to be a bad reflection of Father Parker.

He manages to drop off the supplies in the rectory before sprinting into the church right as one of the deacons is closing the door. He is relieved to have avoided the awkwardness of slipping in late, but now has to deal with feeling gross and sweaty from sprinting through town just moments before. He spends the first half of the services trying to subtly fan himself and dab away the sweat, while darting his eyes towards the clergy at the front.

After services, Father Parker pulls Wade aside and says, “Please tell me I didn’t completely botch that homily.”

“Father, it was perfectly fine, I assure you. You’re just stressing yourself out.”

“You don’t know the situation. I- no. Never mind.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing. They just… They’re not too pleased with me, that’s all.”

“But why-” Wade cuts himself off when Father Peter starts shaking his head. “Well, if it eases your stress any, I have a dinner planned for them that’s fancier than wild rabbit stew.”

Father Parker’s face finally relaxes as he chuckles at the joke. “Thank you. I really appreciate this, Mr. Wilson.”

Wade knows Father Parker has a habit of formal titles, so these slip-ups are common for him, but it still feels awkward to hear his name said in such a manner. He is already too used to hearing him say ‘Wade.’ He feels spoiled by it and it feeds into his strange attraction towards the priest, so moments like this are a slight hit to the heart. But still, he has a job to do and Father Peter’s job might be dependent on the meal he provides tonight.

“I’m going to go do a bit of food prep before I head home, but I’ll be back later, if that’s okay.”

Peter nods fervently. “Of course. And thank you again.”

When Wade returns later that afternoon, he is surprised to hear other voices in the rectory when Father Parker opens the door.

“Ah! Um, Mr. Wilson! Do… do come in!”

_He’s acting a bit… off…_

Wade’s shock only increases when he sees so many clergy members sitting around Peter’s living room with coffee and cakes from a local bakery.

Father Parker quickly introduces Wade to each of them as the church gardener and handyman.

The man called Cardinal Marc then speaks up, asking, “Well, why is he here? Is there some repairs or gardening to be done?”

Wade feels suddenly uncomfortable and unwelcome again at the harshness of Cardinal Marc’s voice, especially after only meeting him a few seconds before. Meanwhile, Peter is struggling with his own reaction to Cardinal Marc. Father Parker knows that look he is giving him as he waits for a response. He understands the assumption behind those eyes, having become quite familiar with this particular Cardinal’s judgment prior to his transfer here.

Father Parker fumbles a bit before mumbling, “Um, well, actually… he-”

“There’s always gardening to be done in a community garden. Especially when I will be using some of the produce to make you all dinner tonight.” Wade feels pleased with himself when the Cardinal’s scowl turns to surprise as the rest of the clergy starts murmuring their excitement.

Wade uses his comment as his excuse to slip into the kitchen to begin working on dinner. He can barely hear their hushed conversation in the next room, but he hears just enough to know that they are talking about him, asking how he came to work for the church, his responsibilities, and how well Father Parker knows him.

_Ah, yes, casting judgment. Their favorite pastime._

At one point, Wade has to slip back outside to the garden for ingredients. As he pulls potatoes from their box stand, he glances up to see two of the clergymen and Father Parker standing near the window. The Cardinal makes no effort to hide the fact that he is staring at Wade while the other two quickly turn away. Wade is used to the staring at this point, so it does not bother him, but then he recalls the questions from earlier. Suddenly he becomes worried that they know him and why the previous priest despised him. This worry turns into concern over whether they will now cause problems for Father Peter for being associated with him.

When Wade steps back inside, he can’t help but notice how the conversation dies out suddenly. He tries his best to ignore it as he returns to the kitchen. As he’s washing the vegetables in the sink, Peter walks up with two empty coffee cups.

“How’s dinner coming along?”

Wade slumps. “Are you sure about this?”

“About what?” Father Parker gives him an anxious stare.

“That I should be making dinner for them. I mean… do they… do they know about-”

“If you’re worried about some comments and glaring from the Cardinal, that’s just because… hold that thought…”

Father Parker suddenly walks away, and Wade’s concern only grows. He soon returns with more coffee cups in hand. He leans in close and speaks quietly.

“Wade, I can’t tell you much, but just know that I did something quite foolish and many of them are not quick to forgive. So, if you’re worried about stares and glares and such, just know it’s because of me, not you.”

Wade rolls his eyes. “Ah, guilty by association. Yeah, I do understand that quite well.”

Peter gives him a pained look, suddenly remembering the story about Wade’s friend who was also shunned. “I’m really sorry-”

“It’s fine. Just as long as they like the meal, I don’t mind. Honest.” Wade goes back to washing the vegetables.

He hears Father Peter step away, then loudly say, “We’ll be going into town for a bit, Mr. Wilson, but will be back in time for dinner. Will you be alright here?”

Wade looks over his shoulder, feeling a bit uncomfortable at Peter’s words and manner of speaking. But then he sees the rest of the clergy just by the door and realizes Father Parker is back in church bureaucracy mode.

“Yes, I believe I will be able to manage. Just be sure to return in roughly two hours if you want the food to still be warm.”

“Not a problem!” the other priest says cheerily, before leading the group out the door.

Father Parker is the last to leave, giving Wade a small wave and thanking him once again.

While Wade is alone in the priory, he reaches a point where there is nothing for him to do cooking-wise for about half an hour. So, he sets the table before deciding to wander around Father Parker’s home. He hopes to find something interesting, something that will help him learn more about the priest, but the rectory is the opposite of Wade’s own home. Whereas Wade has personal effects strewn about for all to see, Father Parker seems to own little himself, most of the supplies belonging to the church.

In the bedroom, he manages to find a small shelf of books and starts going through them one by one. There are a few books of classic literature and, surprisingly, a modern fiction book. At the end of this shelf are a few Bibles. The first one he picks up is warped and stained and Wade vaguely remembers Peter’s story about dropping a Bible in the mud upon his arrival to town. He chuckles to himself as he tries to wedge it back in between the other books. The rest seem quite ordinary in comparison. However, the last Bible he picks up is a bit worn and well used. He opens the cover and sees an inscription.

“Benjamin Parker. Huh. Probably his father or something.”

Wade reads through the list of dates just below the name. Birth, confirmation, graduation, marriage, and many more. But then he reaches the last one and freezes, realizing that according to the year, this Benjamin Parker might have died in the war. Wade puts the Bible back on the shelf and decides to stop prying into Father Parker’s life, going back into the kitchen to try to find something else to do.

Later, Father Parker opens the door to his home, breathing deeply because of the delicious smell coming from the dining area. The clergy all gather around to see Wade serving the last of the side dishes to each of the plates.

Wade had hoped to have this completed and to be well on his way home before the clergy returned, out of fear of their ongoing judgment. But now he’s having to deal with murmurs of compliments and excitement, blushing against all the positive attention he’s not quite used to, especially not from so many people all at once. He quickly finishes up, placing a basket of bread on the table, and tries to slip away. However, the Archbishop gently grabs him by the arm and asks what they are being served.

“It’s, um… It’s roast lamb with mint sauce…”

“How delightful, but the rest?”

“Oh! Ah… seasoned carrots, green peas, new potatoes with rosemary, sliced baby tomatoes, currant jelly, and fougasse. Didn’t make the fougasse myself because there was no time to, not with this visit being a surprise.”

Wade realizes a bit too late that he is rambling and has said something that might be taken the wrong way. He stumbles over an amending statement when Archbishop Simoneaux turns towards Cardinal Marc and says, “Surprise? I thought you said you told-”

“Oh, yes, might have forgotten. Anyways, we should eat.”

Wade bites his tongue when he sees Father Parker subtly raise a hand, trying to wave him off from escalating the situation further. He stands there for a moment, clutching his fists, trying to fight against his anger and judgment towards Cardinal Marc.

As the clergy sits down at the table, Archbishop Simoneaux glances around for a moment before asking, “Mr. Wilson, we seem to be missing a place at the table… Were you not intending on joining us?”

Still fighting against his anger, Wade simply shakes his head and bids them a good evening, not trusting himself to say more words than that.

Wade returns a few hours later to help clean up. However, when Father Parker opens the door, he steps outside instead of inviting Wade in.

“Sorry. They’re all staying here tonight and some of them are already asleep.”

They talk for a while, Father Parker gushing about how the tension between them lessened greatly over dinner, and even at the prospect of another whole day with them tomorrow, he doesn’t feel anxious anymore.

“And it’s all because of you and your food!”

Wade rolls his eyes as he felt his cheeks heat up. “Now, I wouldn’t say that.”

“I’m serious!” Father Parker suddenly reaches down, grabbing one of Wade’s hands. He lifts it, squeezing it gently with both hands as he steps closer, inadvertently bringing Wade’s fingertips closer to Peter’s lips. Wade’s seen such gestures before, grabbing someone’s hand and bringing it up to kiss, namely when one is pleading, but he doesn’t think of that right now. Instead, his mind is stuck on the warmth and softness of Father Parker’s hands along with the heat of Peter’s breath ghosting past his fingers as he says, “Thank you, Wade.”

Father Parker slowly releases Wade’s hand as he says goodnight, slipping back inside the rectory without looking back once. Wade realizes after the door is closed that he never said goodnight back to Father Parker, still stuck in stunned silence from being touched in such a manner.

He stands on the porch, staring down at his hand as he flexes it. Wade recalls the only time he’s ever been touched directly by Peter, when their fingers accidentally brushed the night Father Parker dropped the plate. He fully accepted that that would be it, no other physical contact for someone like him deemed unfit for the church. So to be held like this, even momentarily, is too much for him.

Wade thinks about it constantly as he leaves before dawn the next day on his way to another contracted job. Wade knows he admires Father Parker, not just as a priest, but as a friend, one of the closest he’s ever had. Soon the thoughts turn into questioning if he could love him and if that would be a waste, certain he won’t ever be loved in return again. As soon as he realizes where his thoughts have ended up, he becomes genuinely scared.

Days later, when Wade is able to return home, he decides to stop by a local church before he leaves town to make a confession.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been… been a week since my last confession… Upon a friendly and possibly meaningless gesture, I found myself dwelling on it, questioning a relationship, and soon began having… thoughts… thoughts quite unbecoming and scandalous especially if one were a man of God.” Wade laughs uncomfortably. “It was a simple touch, but I… I just…”

When the priest listening to the confession says, “Ah, women do tend to have that effect on us,” Wade groans inwardly. He begrudgingly agrees to say the appropriate number of Hail Marys before leaving, feeling worse than he did before confessing.


	18. Sep 2-3, 1957

The day Wade returns from his job, he drops off all his supplies at home and goes straight to the church to check on the garden. Originally, Wade thought he would be back tomorrow, which is what he told Father Parker, so Wade can get away with not returning to the church immediately. However, due to all his conflicting thoughts and feelings, Wade feels the need to sneak around and do a bit of his church work when he knows Father Parker will be busy running errands in town. He wants to get back into his old routine before dealing with any awkwardness that might occur because of his blossoming feelings. Unfortunately for him, as he is watering the plants, Wade hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Back already?”

Wade can’t ignore the swoop in his chest at the sound of Father Peter’s voice. “Yeah. Got in early. Is that a problem? I could leave and come back tomorrow instead if-”

Peter keeps walking from the rectory to the church front without stopping as he says, “Mr. Wilson. Sometimes I find it hard to believe you’re the same quiet and timid man who sat under a church window just eight months ago.”

“Do you regret inviting me in, yet?”

“Never.”

Wade is glad to see their relationship is back to normal, that he can manage to do his work without acting in a way that might implicate himself. Then Wade has a thought, one that compels him to drop the water hose at the base of the tomato plants and run after Peter. “Father Peter! Wait up!”

Peter slows his pace and looks back at Wade. “Is something the matter?”

“We, uh, never got to have that dinner.”

“Oh! Right, right. Because of…” Peter tries to make a vague hand gesture upward because he can’t tell Wade their dinner plans were ruined because the church wanted to catch him slipping up again.

“Because of the visit from your superiors, I know. So, if you’re free tomorrow, then maybe…”

“I’ll be working from home that afternoon so stop by whenever you’d like.”

Wade nods and runs back to finish working on the garden. He knows he shouldn’t be encouraging more interactions with the man that’s causing all these confusing feelings. But at the same time, Father Peter is a friend to him and his priest.

_And those are two people you should not typically try to avoid._

While Wade was gone, Father Parker had thought about getting something to thank him for cooking dinner for the clergy. He asked a deacon for his opinion, to which he said, “Just reimburse him for it in his next pay.” Father Parker had already intended to do that, but that’s not the kind of thanks he was thinking about. His day with Cardinal Marc was very rough, though nowhere near as rough as when that same Cardinal was fighting to get Peter excommunicated. During the visit, the tension was high and the hatred was clear, but as soon as they sat down and enjoyed the meal Wade had provided, the Cardinal’s distaste was reduced to a much more manageable amount.

And Peter believes that warrants more than just a few extra francs in Wade’s humble church salary.

Father Parker has thought and thought about what to get him, and each day the same strange thought about a particular Bible keeps creeping in. He tried to think of something else besides that and eventually went to the old bookstore, the same one where he first spoke to Wade. He didn’t remember much about the book Wade had picked up, except that it was German. So, hoping for the best, he selected one at random and purchased it. Yet, for the next five days until Wade’s return, he still had thoughts about that Bible.

And tonight, Peter caves in. He gets up out of bed and pulls the Bible off the shelf, laying it down with the German book. He still can’t explain why he feels compelled to do this, but as soon as he sees the books together, he knows he is making the right decision. That this is the best way to repay Wade for all of his help.

The next day, Father Parker spends his morning hearing confessions, praying over the sick in the hospital, and doing various errands around town. After a late lunch with some town officials, Peter drags himself back home to work on crafting his next sermon. As he passes by the garden, he notes that a row of dying plants are now missing. He stares at it for a moment before realizing it must mean Wade was working here earlier. He briefly looks around for him, but after spotting no one, heads into his home.

He ends up finishing up his work early and suddenly realizes he has no clue as to when Wade will be arriving. He tries to keep his mind off it by cleaning, tidying up little corners of his home, but he finds himself checking out the window or the front door each time he passes by that part of the house. Eventually, he tries to see if he can recognize any of the words from the German book he bought for Wade, only to put it down with a huff when he realizes how useless the attempt will be, given his knowledge of only French, Latin, and a few Hebrew phrases.

He eventually settles on trying to find a radio station that isn’t too crackly to listen to, but soon catches himself slowly scanning through all the stations and not paying attention, not when his mind is on dinner that night. He sits back on the couch with a heavy sigh.

_You’re being ridiculous. Yes, he did something incredibly helpful for you, without even trying or realizing it, but you’re taking this too far. He’s just a generous soul, an exemplary Christian, not… not someone who’d…_

He fights against finishing the thought, secreting hoping it isn’t true.

Father Parker continues to struggle to find a way to occupy his time besides stressing over when Wade will finally knock at his door. Eventually he caves in and rushes to the door, checking once again.

But when he opens it this time, he sees Wade starting up the steps to the rectory. Wade glances up at Peter, a bit startled. “Am I late?”

Father Parker shakes his head fervently. “No, no. I just… I thought I heard something…”

He allows Wade into his house, feeling foolish for how badly he has been stressing.

As Wade works on preparing dinner, he talks about fixing the leak in the bathroom sink of the church, and his brief conversation with a deacon who stepped in to see what the racket was about. Father Parker knows Deacon Duguay well enough to be able to tell from Wade’s story that he is still not comfortable talking to Mr. Wilson, but the fact that he conversed with him beyond pleasantries warms Peter’s heart.

_It’s taking quite some time, but clearly there is some hope of getting Wade back into the community comfortably!_

However, this warm feeling is dashed as soon as they start eating, when Wade admits he doesn’t feel comfortable talking to Deacon Duguay. Father Parker tries to intervene but Mr. Wilson waves him off.

“It’s nothing like that. He could be the friendliest person around and I’d still feel… awkward around him. He’s been here since before Father Comtois started…” Wade makes a vague gesture, and Father Parker nods, understanding what he is trying to say. “He knows my relationship with the church and believes some not-so-great things about me. So it’s… weird…”

Wade shrugs as he shovels another forkful of food into his mouth.

“It always breaks my heart to hear about how the church has treated you, being a perfect example of how _not_ to love one’s brother. But even so, I’m amazed that you managed to put up with it for so long. I can’t imagine anyone with enough emotional strength to endure it like you did and have their faith remain intact.”

Swallowing another bite, Wade shrugs awkwardly before saying, “There’s a bit more to it than that. I mean, it’s hard to say, but I… There are reasons I didn’t leave… And as for the faith part, I admit I struggled quite a bit at times, but what helped me the most is realizing that it was the people here who shunned me, not God. If I’m going to resent anyone, it’s the one casting stones and not the One they claim to worship. I can’t blame God for the corruption of his believers.”

Father Parker nods, agreeing with Wade’s thoughts on the matter. Their dinner continues in silence for a few moments before Wade sheepishly glances up at Father Parker. “Sorry for the mood kill. Got any stories I missed these past few weeks that might help lift our spirits?”

“Well, there was this one time Deacon Lasalle… wait… I’ll get back to that.”

When Father Parker stands from the table, Wade asks, “What’s going on?”

“I think I have something a bit better than a story. Wait one moment.”

Wade wants to ask again, but Father Parker has already dashed out of the kitchen. When he returns, he places the two books on the edge of the table next to Wade. Wade raises his brow at Father Parker as he sits back down.

“What’s this about?”

“I just thought I’d get you something for helping my… _strained_ relationship with Cardinal Marc. You don’t know-”

Wade waves him off. “No, no. Not this again. You already thanked me, and trust me, that was more than enough.”

“But I insist. Besides, you might as well take it because I can’t return it.” Father Parker smirks at him over his glass of water.

Wade smiles as he shakes his head. Picking up the first book, he pages through it, grinning broadly. “I hate to admit this, but I’ve been slowly trying to read this series every time I can sneak into that bookstore.”

“Well, now you can read it without sneaking.”

“Oh, I’ll still have to sneak it when I’m reading it in church.”

Father Parker gives him an unamused stare as Wade laughs. He is starting to become more familiar with Wade’s sense of humor, realizing he might actually start reading it in the middle of service one day just to see how Father Parker will react.

Wade hesitates on picking up the next book. He recognizes it immediately but doesn’t want Father Parker to know. “What’s, uh…. What’s this?”

“It’s my uncle’s Bible. He had it with him all his life. Said it was one of the things he treasured the most, after family and a good nap,” Peter chuckles softly to himself at the memories of Uncle Ben saying that almost every Sunday. “And now I think you should have it.”

“But… it’s your uncle’s _treasured_ -”

“But nothing. I really want you to have it. He may have treasured that Bible in particular, but I treasure people having access to the Word. I admit, it’s a bit singed on one corner, but at least it’s not stabbed.”

Wade snorts in laughter. “That is true. Are you sure about this? About giving it to me?”

“Quite sure.”

“Thank you.”

Father Parker smiles at him before he resumes eating. Wade, however, is too distracted for food. He runs his hand over the cover, feeling the embossed words that are printed there, thinking of the history this particular book has with the Parker family. “Well, this does tell me a lot about you and your uncle.”

“How so?”

“From where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Father Parker smiles warmly as Wade quotes the scripture, but inside, he is torn. He cherishes that Bible as well but knows that Wade needs it more than he does, at least in terms of having access to the Word without blood stains. However, as Wade holds the treasured Bible, Peter wonders where his heart is being held.

Wade is wondering the same thing, convincing himself that he might be reading into the gift a bit further than Father Parker has intended. He sits the Bible down on top of the German book as he tries to sort his thoughts.

Peter eventually breathes out a laugh. “Well, I guess it does seem fitting considering how important you and your faith are to me… I hope you like it.”

Glancing up while nodding, Wade loudly says, “Of course!”

He then stands and walks part of the way around the table, towards Father Peter. He awkwardly stretches out his hands before snatching them back, fumbling for his words as he grabs the books off the table. “I’m just… I’m going to move these so they don’t get food on them by accident…”

He quickly rushes out of the room with the books and sets them on the seat of the couch. He groans slightly as he roughly wipes his face with his hands.

_I can’t believe I almost tried to hug him. What has gotten into me?_

Wade takes a few deep breaths before entering the kitchen again, willing himself to stop acting in a way that will offend Father Parker. He feels a bit relieved that he manages to make it through dinner without another unnecessary urge.

After dinner, Peter rushes to clear the table and starts washing the dishes so Wade won’t have to do it. It takes a moment for Wade to realize what is going on, watching how Father Parker darts back and forth from the table to the sink frantically before he starts washing. Wade has a fleeting thought about how cute Peter is but pushes it aside.

_No point in thinking about such things when I can never act on them._

He firmly believes that with his looks and reputation, he shouldn’t waste his time with romantic thoughts. Even with these unexplained feelings, he still thinks it is best to just consider himself lucky that Father Peter is such a good friend to him and leave it at that.

When Wade finally realizes what Father Parker is doing, he quickly stands and tries to take over. He fails as Father Parker keeps jutting out his elbows to keep Wade from the sink. Wade still manages to find a way to help by taking each washed item from Peter and drying it. As he starts putting items away in their proper place, he brushes past Peter quite closely, managing to touch his knuckles against Peter’s hair at one point.

Wade freezes, the plate in his hand remaining half-dried as he struggles against the urge to try to make that happen again, or better yet, put his hands in Peter’s hair deliberately. He’s thought about it before; an inappropriate thought that had crept in against his will while on his most recent mission. But now he’s dwelling on it, thinking about how close he’d like to be to Father Parker.

And as Father Peter continues to wash the dishes, quietly talking about the church’s ladies’ group taking a trip to an orphanage next month, Wade leans in and breathes in deeply.

He pulls back immediately, realizing his mistake, grateful that the flatware in his hands has prevented him from following through with his initial urges.

_Why am I doing this?!_

Wade quickly towels off the plate and puts it away. He grips the edge of the cabinet as he hangs his head, ashamed of himself.

_I’m perverting his kindness and friendship. I need to stop before one of us gets hurt._


	19. Sep 24-25, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little behind on getting my stuff to my betas, plus all the evac and quarantine craziness going on where I'm at. BUT! I am actively working on prepping the next _several_ chapters... So, fingers crossed we can have some more dumb-fools-standing-about-on-fire-typa-slow-burn Priest Fest content just a tad bit more frequently.  
> Thank you all for your patience!

Recently, Father Parker has been helping Wade in the garden, so he can know what to do to keep it alive whenever Wade is out of town. This is supposed to strictly be a learning experience for Father Parker, but he finds himself goofing around and laughing with Wade, sharing stories and jokes more than he might if he was working with one of the deacons. But Peter can’t help himself, not when it is typically Wade who starts saying the dumbest things until Father Parker caves and joins in his banter.

This is exactly what is happening outside of the shed as they are getting supplies to overturn two rows in the garden. Wade notices one of the vines loose on the shed, dangling from the roof and swaying in the wind. He grabs it and drapes it over one of Father Parker’s shoulders.

Father Parker moves slightly, trying to avoid it, but he does not have a good grip of the supplies in his arms and cannot risk moving too drastically. “Wade. What are you doing?”

“Seeing if a more natural stole would look better on you.”

Father Parker rolls his eyes. “I think I have to stick to the stoles I’ve been assigned.”

Wade tugs the vine closer to Father Parker before patting it against his shoulder. “But the vines look so much better!”

“You really think the church would approve of dead vines as stoles?”

“Maybe just seasonal events then. What about Easter?”

“Wade…”

“Bastille Day?”

“Wade!”

“Fine! Besides… green’s not your color anyways,” Wade says, roughly flinging the vine off of Father Peter’s shoulder. Wade is startled a little when Deacon Lasalle approaches, saying someone is currently in the church wanting to speak to Father Parker. Wade takes the supplies from Father Peter’s arms and places them in the shed.

As Father Parker leaves, Wade looks over and sees another deacon approaching. He watches as the two deacons stop in front of each other and begin talking about an upcoming event for the children of the church as Father Parker keeps walking. Being left so close to the deacons, the same clergy who worked for the priest who banned him, makes Wade feel a bit uneasy. He always tells Father Parker that he’s feeling more welcomed, but he can’t help his paranoia, especially around certain individuals.

_Guess now’s as good a time as any to finally sweep out the shed._

Wade slips inside and quickly finds the broom. However, it’s in two pieces, the brush having been separated from the handle. As he sits on an overturned bucket behind the door, he quietly tries to reassemble the broom with some twine, struggling to keep it balanced on his lap. He only manages a few sloppy turns of the twine when he hears the deacons coming close.

“He can’t be leaving the door open like this. A wild animal could get in.”

“You mean besides him?”

Wade can recognize Deacon Duguay’s rough voice anywhere.

The harsh laughter is barely covered by the sound of the shed door being slammed shut. Wade startles from the sound and reflexively stands to leave immediately. But the deacons start talking again, causing Wade to freeze on the spot, clutching the pieces of broom to his chest.

“I don’t know what Father Parker is trying to do. He can’t be fixed,” comes Deacon Duguay’s voice through the shed door.

“I’m sure he’s just trying to make sure he’s keeping out of trouble.” Wade can barely hear Deacon Lasalle’s softer voice.

“How so?”

“You know, keeping him close to the church so he can be around better people, learn by example and stay out of trouble. He might have… you never know… heard a rumor or two… perhaps… and if so, maybe he just wanted to keep an eye on him. Try to handle the situation gracefully and-”

Wade barely has time to feel crushed by this before the Deacon Duguay chimes in.

“Of course he wants to keep an eye on him!” Lasalle stutters a rebuttal, but Deacon Duguay continues. “He’s not trying to fix Mr. Wilson. He’s probably just trying to lure him. What do you expect from a priest who was sent here as punishment for kissing another man?”

Wade hears Deacon Lasalle scoff. “I really hope you’re wrong, as usual. I just can’t see- no, I refuse! But then again… In terms of Mr. Wilson… there was that strange man who stayed with him in the cabin for a bit the other year… you remember that, right?”

“Yes! Yes, him! Oh… if it wasn’t for…” Wade can’t hear Deacon Duguay anymore and wonders if they have left. He realizes the deacon must have only started whispering when he suddenly hears him speak again. “I would have completely thought the same thing.”

“So maybe it’s nothing like that.” The way Deacon Lasalle inflects his voice makes it sound more of a question to Wade.

“You’re right. Maybe it’s Mr. Wilson trying to corrupt Father Parker. Trying to get a priest to cover him… all those questionable… And! And those…” Wade struggles to hear them again, but this time the voices are fading as if the deacons are walking away. Wade waits in silence for another minute before taking two steps to the left to check out the dirty window. He barely manages to see the deacons turn towards the steps towards the back entrance of the church. Deacon Duguay’s arms are moving wildly as he speaks to Deacon Lasalle. Wade can’t stand to think of the direction of their gossip as they step into the consecrated building.

Wade quickly steps outside and rushes home, no longer in the mood to be on Holy ground.

His fear of someone being judged for befriending him becomes overwhelming. The entire walk home, he struggles to rationalize the situation.

_If they’re talking like that, then he knows. He has to know. But why hasn’t he said anything? Surely, he would have tried to run me out of town or intervene or SOMETHING!_

_Even if he doesn’t know, the way those deacons get on, it’s only a matter of time, perhaps today!_

Wade feels his steps becoming unsteady as his fear of the repercussions cause him to feel lightheaded and nauseated.

_He won’t be like Father Comtois. He can’t. If he shuns people for being close to me, he would have to shun himself. That doesn’t make sense. How can he shun himself for befriending me, especially after trying so hard to get me involved in the church again? Piety certainly doesn’t mean self-contradicting self-shunning, right?_

_He wouldn’t, would he? He can’t turn on me…_

As he enters his home, he feels sorted on that issue, but there is still too much unease, still so many consequences to deal with.

Wade has always thought that Father Parker was only treating him like he does the rest of the congregation. He greeted him and talked to him like he did others. He checked in on him like he did the town. And if there was a need in the church, he found a way to get others involved to fill it, such as Wade and the garden. In short, Wade thought Father Parker was simply treating him like an actual person.

But he couldn’t help the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, Father Parker is only trying to keep an eye on the unfit outcast. He’s seen the way Father Parker had stood up for him so many times, genuinely cared about Wade’s wellbeing and his reintegration into the community. They’ve had plenty of talks about it, about whether or not Wade feels like he’s fitting in and getting along with the rest of the town.

_Much like a previous felon being asked how they’re adjusting to-_

Wade shakes his head, trying to stop the negative thoughts. He pulls a few ingredients out of the fridge and tries to throw all his focus into cooking. As he attempts to plate his dinner, he briefly feels foolish for all those times he cooked for Father Parker.

_Playing right into his-_

_Stop that! You know that’s not like him! It was just those deacons being assholes. They’re all talking crap. Saying things they have no-_

_Wait… But what about that… that_ kiss _they mentioned…_

_Was he really sent here as a punishment? Not just a reassignment, but as penance for kissing… a man?_

Wade sits down roughly with his meal that he suddenly has no interest in, struggling with rationalizing why he feels a pang of jealousy.

Meanwhile, Father Parker enters the church to find that the person who requested an audience with him is one of the church ladies heading the orphanage trip. She asks for advice about how to handle the donation drive that weekend, which Father Parker addresses quickly. He had already found records of how the donation drive was previously handled and committee notes on improvements. He takes the stack of documents off his desk and hands it to her, saying, “Something told me you’d be needing these today, so I already had them set aside for you.”

She thanks him profusely before heading out of the church. Father Parker starts to follow, to head back to the garden, but then pauses, an unpleasant thought weighing on him.

Father Parker has been dealing with unholy thoughts for most of his life. His aunt and uncle knew about it and still loved him, but there was a silent agreement that it would be best if he kept that part of his life quiet. However, he’s been finding it harder and harder to do so recently, especially when there is someone so close that has only increased the amount of unholy thoughts.

If it was only the unwarranted thoughts, Father Parker could handle it. Now, however, there are more. His feelings are becoming intertwined with the issue, and he is finding it harder to keep his hands and words in check, thinking back to his last moments with Wade, what he wanted to say and do-

- _all because of some silly vine as a stole. Am I really that far gone?_

Peter slips into the sanctuary before heading back to the garden. He kneels by the altar and begins to pray. He prays to stay on the right track, to not fall from grace. He prays that any of his follies do not cause others to fall. He prays that he can do right by the church… and by Wade, enriching his life instead of ruining it. And finally, he prays for himself, feeling unworthy and sinful. He asks for forgiveness because of who he is and for loving Wade.

He pauses at the end, mulling over his last prayer.

_For… loving?_

_Loving Wade?_

_Surely, I didn’t mean it like-_

Father Parker suddenly remembers he’s kneeling at the altar.

_Not the place to try to twist and deny words._

He breathes out a shaky “Amen,” before slumping against the steps.

_I’m…_

_I’m in love with Wade._

Peter hates that as soon as he finally admits his feelings to himself, he feels relieved, suddenly aware of how tense he has become recently.

With a heavy sigh, Father Parker stands up and dusts himself off. He has a sudden urge to head outside via the back exit, and decides to follow that feeling, mumbling under his breath, “Lord, please don’t let everything fall to pieces."

When Father Parker reaches the back door, it starts to open before he can raise his hands. He startles, though not because of the movement of the door, but the words he hears coming from his own deacon.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am! He’s here because it’s part of his penance. I’m telling you, if that happened here, well, when it comes to sexually immoral acts, we don’t-” Deacon Duguay cuts himself off as he looks into the church to see what made Deacon Lasalle freeze in place with his jaw dropped.

“Father Parker! I didn’t- I- I mean, if I had known, I’d-”

“What, if you had known you’d been caught, you wouldn’t have gossiped?”

Both deacons start speaking at once, a flurry of incoherent words hinting at apologizes and explanations. Father Parker cuts them off with a brisk wave of his hand.

“It’s been a while, but I think it’s time you helped me with constructing a sermon. How about you find as many verses you can in reference to the sins of gossip? Hm?”

Both deacons fumble an apology as they agree to get to work right away. Father Parker swallows down the troubled feeling he has over their reactions. Lasalle seems truly contrite over his actions, and Father Parker almost pities him, believing he might have just been caught up in the gossip. But Father Parker cannot bring himself to pity anyone who storms off while looking so non-repentant as Deacon Duguay has done.

_Duguay was the main one trying to expose me and ruin my name, so why was I the target of such a venomous look?_

_Why is he so angry? Is it because he was caught? Or is it because I wasn’t stoned to death or whatever archaic punishment he would have demanded the church bring back?_

Father Parker sighs heavily and takes a step outside, grateful for the fresh air. He does a double take when the shed enters his peripherals.

_Oh… oh no… Wade… What did Wade hear?_

Father Parker rushes down the steps and jogs to the shed, but there is no sign of Wade. He then hastily wanders the church grounds, even checking the rectory, but he still cannot find Mr. Wilson. After a few more minutes of frantic searching, he convinces himself that Wade had a legitimate and unrelated reason for leaving, but Peter still can’t help the uneasy feeling inside his chest.

The next day, Wade arrives at the church to work a bit later than usual. He has already spent far too long that morning dwelling on what the deacons had said.

He has come to the conclusion that Father Parker is the kindest person he’s ever met, so the reasons for befriending Wade must be kind as well. Also, regardless of the validity of the story about the kiss, it doesn’t change Father Parker as a person, and Wade refuses to allow his feelings to shift because of it. Although he’s already struggling with that last part; he has fantasized about Father Parker’s lips twice since then, and it took quite a while before he realized how far his thoughts had wandered.

However, there is still the issue of the deacons questioning their relationship, wondering if Wade is corrupting him. Even if it isn’t the priest who is spearheading the shunning, the rest of the clergy seem to be doing it just fine on their own. And once again, Wade feels as though he can’t fight back, not for himself or for Father Parker.

_I can’t let it happen again. I can’t let Father Parker go through what Al went through. That would break me. I wouldn’t have… I can’t… I…_

_I have to… There’s nothing else I can do… I’m going to have to cut ties._

_But he at least needs to know the truth. From me, and no one else._

Once he makes up his mind, he heads to the church to water the garden. While doing so, Wade thinks about how to tell Father Parker the truth about himself, at least enough of it to understand why they should not talk anymore. But he isn’t sure how to do it. He needs an extended amount of private time with Father Parker, but to do that would only increase the issue.

_Unless I’m in the confessional booth…_

Wade considers how much time he’ll need to get his thoughts in order, to work up the courage to do it, and to come to terms with ending his friendship with Father Parker in order to save him. He finishes watering the garden and sneaks into Father Parker’s office, stealing some paper to write a note. He briefly explains that he’ll be back that Friday but will need to confess upon his return.

He takes the note and wedges it into the door frame of the clergy house. He takes a few steps away from the rectory before looking back.

_This is a cute home… I think I might actually miss seeing it… and its resident…_

Wade turns back and heads for his home, trying to fight against the terrible thought that the next time he talks to Father Parker will be the last time.


	20. Sep 27, 1957

Two days later, Wade goes to the church to confess. He is directed to the confessional booth and told that someone will be with him shortly. He sits there on the hard bench, the flattened seat cushion doing little to help with comfort. His palms start to sweat as he swallows dryly. His nerves begin to get the best of him, and he questions his decision to do this.

_What we have is fine. There’s no reason to do this. We can go about pretending everything is normal, no sinful thoughts, no bad associations, no skeletons in the closet…_

_I don’t… I don’t want to lose him…_

Wade stands suddenly, ready to run out of the confessional, when he hears someone enter the section beside him.

_But I don’t want him to lose his position or his faith because of me…_

_That’s why I have to do this._

Wade slowly sits back down, wiping his palms on his slacks, willing himself to go through with this for Father Parker’s sake.

“Hello, are you-”

“Yes, yes, sorry, just give me a moment…” Wade knows he is stalling, but upon hearing Father Peter’s voice, in the tone he saves for his priestly duties, he knows he has no choice but to continue. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned… It’s been, um, a few weeks since I’ve last confessed.”

Wade closes his eyes, preparing to tell Father Parker secrets he had hoped to keep buried. After clearing his throat uncomfortably, he begins. “I have caused great discomfort for my community…”

“Mr. Wilson, I’m sorry for interrupting, but you don’t need to apologize for the bigotry and-”

“I need to, Father. I really do. There are things you really need to know. So please… please let me finish it all, or I might not ever be able to do this.”

Wade waits for a response but ends up taking Father Parker’s silence as permission to continue.

“I have caused great discomfort for my community. They know of some sins and are afraid of me, rightfully so. However, their fear stems from knowing only a few facts which grew into a multitude of rumors.” Wade thinks about it for a second, before laughing quietly to himself. “In fact, they’d probably surpass a human’s understanding of fear if they knew the full truth, given their reaction now.”

Wade leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, trying his best to talk about this next part as if it is just another random story he is telling Father Peter out in the garden. “A while back, I had a lover, Vanessa. I could only call her my lover because we were never officially married. But we didn’t do that to live in sin, it was a conscious choice to save her. I… My line of work is dangerous, and things like families can easily turn into targets for very vile people. So to protect her, we kept our relationship secret, but people from the church were beginning to get suspicious about an unholy premarital relationship between us. And their suspicions were marked true when she died during childbirth, both her and the baby. And instead of treating the situation as one would with the death of a loved one, they berated me and shunned us, and it took everything to convince them to allow her to be buried in the church graveyard, saying the blame fell completely on me. And once that was done, I moved around for a while until I came here, settling down. However, my sins followed me.”

He knows he has just revealed a lot of information for Father Peter to process, but Wade is only scratching at the surface of the issue.

“But that wasn’t all… I started coming home bloodied and injured. And one of my friends who was involved in my line of work… he would visit me, but it didn’t exactly help my situation, not when he exposed the fact that I was receiving weapons. In his defense, though, it was just a slip of the tongue. Even so, the rumors only increased. At some point, people began thinking I was either a deranged murderer or hunter, a hit man, and at one point, some especially _creative_ individuals started thinking I had something to do with Vanessa’s death. Luckily, that particular rumor was not all over town. However, it was centered in the church. Some of the clergy were – probably still are – genuinely convinced that I might have been a hired killer with such a deficit of morals that I would kill my own wife.”

Wade screws his eyes shut tightly, thinking of the way the church had taken a horrible situation such as death and managed to sully it even further. He then realizes that he hasn’t heard a sound from the other side of the confessional for quite some time.

_I know I told him to let me finish, but…_

“Hey, Father Peter… knock once if you’re still there.”

Wade chuckles uncomfortably at the sound of the faint tap.

“Thanks. Right. So… about my job… They’re not completely wrong. It’s similar to a continuation of my time as a soldier. And I do…” Wade takes a few breaths, ready for Father Parker to be through with him. “I do _sometimes_ end up having to kill people, but I’m not a hit man and that’s not my entire job. I’m contracted to help people in terrible situations. It can be from abusive husbands to child molesters and many other things, like people who are still suffering from effects of the war. You might not see a lot of it in a small village like this, but there are too many horrible, genuinely evil individuals out there taking advantage of the widows, the orphans, the families still picking up the pieces of their lives, whether it’s emotionally and/or physically. I go and help them, even if it means getting rid of the people causing their terrible situation. This can be something as simple as dropping them off at the steps of the police house but sometimes… sometimes I have to do more… So, I’ve felt that the killings were justified, in a sense, since I’m getting rid of evil in the world and I only do it when there’s no other option. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see the evil in my own deeds, and I do go to confess the harm I’ve done before returning home each time.”

_He must think I’m absolutely disgusting, trying to make excuses for murder…_

With a heavy, shuddering sigh, Wade presses on. “As for the rumors… the irony of it all is that the times people have seen me bloodied, it was because I was getting my butt kicked trying _not_ to kill while also trying to protect the innocent. But the people here… they hear an accent, they hear rumors of your past, they see you bloodied but with no animal carcass from a successful hunt… and they come up with the most fantastical theories to shame you. And I can’t deny them because they’re not entirely wrong. Even if I tried, it’s not like they would believe me. But it’s more than just the rumors... Between the church knowing about Vanessa and the possibility that I do have a… an unsavory occupation… it’s easy for people to believe that those who are associated with me are either okay with my rumored lifestyle or are a part of that same lifestyle. I’ve seen it happen before, and I can see it happening again, right now.”

Wade pauses when he hears Father Parker clearing his throat. He thinks the priest might have had a comment about his last statement, but when he remains silent, Wade decides to seal his fate.

“I just wanted you to know my sins so you can better understand why I’m… Why I won’t…” Wade groans before taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it. He sits up, his hands now gripping the fabric of his slacks. Taking another steadying breath, he finishes with, “I won’t be coming around here anymore, to help you save face. I’m too far gone, and maybe no amount of being righteous in other areas can save me, but I can at least help you by not being around.”

“That’s hardly necessary.”

Wade sits there in stunned silence, taken aback by the stern and short response given so promptly.

_Does Peter think I’m joking or…_

“What… what do you mean? I have to-”

“You don’t need to do all that. Thank you for telling me the truth and for confessing your sins, but in terms of you staying away because of that…” Wade hears Father Parker breath out heavily. “I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but honestly, I couldn't care less if the church was worried about me being friends with someone who might have come home bloodied a few times. If anything, I’m worried about you coming home injured. I couldn’t live with myself if you-”

“Well, I tend to heal pretty quickly, and nothing's been able to kill me yet. But even so, that’s probably all the more reason for me to back off and-”

“Jesus broke bread with all sorts of individuals, and that only spoke to the kindness in His heart and His aim for the Kingdom. So if you stop coming around, that just means I will have to go to your residence and drag you back to the church myself.”

Wade pauses for a moment, trying to process what Father Parker is trying to do. “Well, that last part doesn’t sound very Christ-like.”

“No, I guess not. Suppose our methods are a bit different.”

Wade breathes out a laugh, but it dies down quickly, a sudden unease hitting him. Without thought, he blurts out, “You took that a bit _too_ well. I don’t see how you could be so blasé about a- a- well, what’s essentially a murder confession, especially-”

“That’s a conversation for later!” Father Parker clears his throat. “I’m sorry. That came out harsh. I have my reasons for why I’m handling this the way I am… but also… I wouldn’t be a very good priest if I was constantly reacting dramatically to every confession I needed to intercede on.”

Wade’s laugh is slightly more genuine this time. “Even so, I didn’t think you could pull off-”

“Is your intention to shock me or is your confession serious?”

“I, uh… I’m afraid it is completely serious…”

“Right. I’ve had some time to come to terms with you potentially having a terrible past; you yourself have hinted at that possibility. And as a priest, I have to find balance where I get to know people for who they are now and who they are aiming to be, not any mortal sins they have already sought forgiveness for. You are more than the sum of your sins.”

_I still find it quite odd that he’s taking it so well, but I can’t keep questioning it, not when he’s refusing to answer… but it clearly seems like he already knew about at least one of the rumors… but which? And for how long has he known? Perhaps-_

“Mr. Wilson?”

“Hrm? Oh! Right… um… How many Hail Marys do I have to say now?”

The brief pause that follows only worsens the unease that Wade feels.

“None.” Peter’s voice comes softly through the confessional’s partition.

“None?”

“Well, I do believe you mentioned going to confession after each… job… so there’s no need to re-confess and go through penance over and over for the same exact instance of sin. _Trust me._ It doesn’t help at all. But before you go… I, ah… I think now is as good a time as any to admit a few things to you, since, like you’ve pointed out, this town and this church clearly like to talk.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No, no. I feel it’s only right. I heard some of the deacons the other day saying something they should have known nothing about. So I know there’s talk already, but I want to make sure you know the truth, especially since you’re the closest friend I’ve had in years. But I want you to hear it from me, not through the grapevine.”

“What… you mean rumors about  _ you _ !?”

“Yes, I’m sure with the hours you spend on the church grounds you’ve probably heard someone mention something about me… kissing another man.”

“Ah… actually… yes, I did, just the other day, but-”

“I figured as much since they were still talking about it when I stepped back outside. Right, so… let’s do this like you did. Step out for a moment.”

Wade hesitates for a bit until he stands and steps out from the curtain covering his section of the confessional booth. He squints against the sunlight coming in through the church windows and sees Father Parker standing to the side, gesturing to the priest’s side of the confessional booth, but he pointedly turns his face away from Wade.

“Go ahead, take a seat.”

“But-”

“It’s fine. Just do this for me.”

Wade nods and slowly opens the door. He goes in and sits, hesitating to close the door.

_This feels wrong. I feel like I’m doing something quite sinful here._

“You ready?”

Without thought, Wade quickly shuts the door, sitting back on the bench. “Yes.”

“Bless me… whomever…” Father Parker gives an uneasy laugh before continuing, “For I have sinned. I am… I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud… I’m a homosexual. I try not to be attracted to men, I’ve tried to repent time and time again, but I… I don’t know… I can’t seem to help it.”

“But wait, is that really a sin? I mean, look around, there are-”

“France may be fine with it, yes, but the church? No. I can attest to that. They find it absolutely revolting and disgraceful. The funny thing is, my situation is a lot like yours. The rumor is I was sent here because I kissed a man, and that is why there are certain clergy out for my head, preferably on a stake as a warning to others. But that kiss, which did happen, is the _only_ thing they know about. Yet, it’s the least of my sins.”

Wade feels as though he has been punched in the stomach. He takes a few steadying breaths, trying to overcome his shock, to overcome the assumptions he is starting to draw.

“Men of the Cloth from my previous post caught me kissing another man. Sometimes he tried to steal kisses in more public areas, but I always refused, knowing the repercussions of such an act. But the one time I gave in, we were caught. So I had to deal with many investigations and trials, sent to somewhere remote for penance and to correct my ways, until I was sent here. To repent. Once again. All that stress and humiliation and censure… just from a lingering kiss… I can’t imagine they’d even allow me to continue living if they knew the full extent of it.”

_Continue living… allowing him to… continue living…_

“W-what do you mean?” Wade’s voice is almost a whisper when he asks, “What did they do to you?”

“Oh, well… um… well, they… they threatened to beat the gay out of me at the altar, so to speak. And I guess it wasn’t much of a shallow threat, seeing that they actually dragged me to the altar and threw me down before saying anything. They were… they were a bit rough with me, not just on the altar, but during my entire investigation and trial. Their main threat was to beat the sin out of me, regardless if I survived the process. I remember one clergyman stating he’d see no difference in excommunicating me alive or as a corpse. And if they reacted that badly to a kiss, I’m sure they’d treat me worse than a high-ranking war criminal across enemy lines if they had caught us… in a less _holy_ act.”

Wade grips the edge of his seat, swaying slightly as he tries to digest everything Father Parker is saying.

“Just the night before, Harry had stopped by for some coffee, and before I knew it, he had his mouth on me, working me like he’d learned how to do over the past few weeks in order to make me completely undone. I knew what we were doing was wrong, and that I should stop it, but he had a way with me. In mere moments, I went from fighting against my unholy urges to reveling in the sight of him writhing beneath me.”

Father Parker then lets out a sad sigh, just as one does when looking back on fond memories. Wade is stunned to realize that Father Parker might actually miss that part of his life, miss that sin. Tugging at his pants to provide more comfort, he is more stunned to realize how his body is reacting to the news.

“With every moan and panted breath, I knew I was falling further into a pit of sin I couldn’t get out of, yet I kept allowing it to happen. No, no. That’s not entirely true. It wasn’t all on him. There were times I’d even encourage it, the way I’d touch him in passing when no one was there, letting him know that I fully expected to hear my name fall from his lips later that day in the most lustful manner possible. Even when it started interfering with my work, causing me to daydream about sweat-soaked skin in the middle of constructing homilies, I still found myself giving in to temptation, instead of turning from it. And I gave in once more the night before we were caught, believing it to be the last. But then… I gave in again when he approached me the next day, asking to do to me what I had done to him. I tried to dismiss him, but only because we were behind the prayer gardens, _the prayer gardens_ , where others could easily walk by. He’d agreed to drop the subject, but only if I kissed him. And I gave in once more, but that would be the last time… sometimes, I wonder if it was a set-up, like Judas’ kiss, considering his unusual barter and how quickly we were caught, but none of that matters now. That’s the past, and I’m here now, still repenting for it as I will for the remainder of my days or until Archbishop Parde finally believes I’ve atoned for my sins.”

Wade jerks his head towards the screen when he hears a loud thump followed by a heavy sigh.

“So now you know my secrets, my past. But do you understand the difference in our sins?”

Wade gives a non-committal hum. He isn’t sure what Father Parker means by his question, and he finds himself distracted, palming at his growing erection through his slacks, hoping it will subside in time.

_I don’t know why he is admitting everything to me, but I know it can’t be to cause a reaction like this._

“I clearly only had myself on my mind when I sinned. Well, there was someone else too, but it was still just me in essence. I was being selfish and lustful and sinful. I was only listening to my carnal desires whenever I sinned, thinking only of my flesh. But you. You might have… ended… others, but it was for reasons you thought were good. The _intent_ was good. Method is questionable, that’s for certain, but you are trying to help our country in such a turbulent time. Your intent has never been for yourself, but for the betterment of others. Yes, we as humans may judge murder as a crime worse than pre-marital sex or even homosexuality, but all sins are equal in the eyes of the Lord. If you’re worried about me judging you or the town judging me for being near you, just know that I think… I think you’re better than me. I sinned to satisfy myself while you have sinned to help humanity.”

When Peter taps on the partition, Wade startles a little, inadvertently pressing harder into his erection, eliciting a strangled sound. He sits there for a moment, unmoving and wide-eyed in fear that Father Parker has heard him and discovered his current state.

“I’m sorry for… for saying so much… It was probably more than you bargained for, but I do appreciate you humoring me and listening to my whole confession.”

“I, uh… That’s fine… I mean, I… of course, but… why did you want to tell me?”

“Oh, well, part of it was to clear the air about any rumors you heard elsewhere, much like what happened. Also, I was hoping it helps you to understand that I do know what it’s like to be haunted by your sins and to live with rumors inside the church. It’s tough and terrible, but it is doable. Besides, it seemed only fair since you were so open with me just now about something I’m sure you wanted to keep buried. It felt like the least I could do was be just as open with you, though don’t go thinking I spill all my secrets to anyone who confesses. It’s… different with you, Wade. And I actually…” Father Parker’s voice goes softer. “I don’t think I’ve trusted anyone even half this much since… since Aunt May died…”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. She’s in a better place now, as most would say.” Father Parker clears his throat and starts speaking in a slightly more normal register. “Now I can understand if you no longer want to be around me because of _my_ sins, but-”

“NO!” Wade hates how his outcry comes out as a gasp. He is furious with his body for responding in such a manner when there are more serious matters at hand. “Please, I… I can’t think less of you. If anything, I find it extremely brave that you continued to work for the church after everything you’ve been through.”

There is a slight pause before Father Parker says, “So you should understand why I said it wouldn’t be necessary for you to cut ties… It’s the same thing.”

Wade shifts in his seat a little, his eyes focused on the latch of the door. “What do you- How?”

“I, too, find it brave of you to continue living here and putting up with the church and your constantly badgering priest, even after everything you’ve been through. And I don’t think less of you either. Essentially, I’m trying to say that even with your history and your sins, I think you have a good heart. I would be devastated if I could no longer be blessed with your presence all because of some rumors. Please stay.”

“I- I will,” Wade whispers out, willing his body to calm down.

_I know it hasn’t been touched for some time, but this is just ridiculous! Why now!?_

A moment passes in silence, Wade startling a little when Father Parker speaks up again.

“And do get back to the garden when you can. It’s only been two days, but I think I’m killing the tomatoes.”

Wade struggles to fake a laugh. “I will, sir.”

He hears movement next to him and begins to panic. He knows the point of the conversation was about open honesty, about perspectives of sin, and about remaining friends despite all of that. Yet, his body is still only focused on one part. He can barely hear the sounds of Father Parker walking away but waits a moment before he checks. Cracking open the door to the confessional booth and peeking out, he carefully scans the room but sees no other persons there. He secures the door closed and sits back down on the bench.

Wade glances down at his lap as he whispers, “Why are you like this!? You’re more persistent than the priest, I swear!”

He groans and tilts his head back onto the wall behind him. He tries flexing his legs and focusing his breathing, but nothing seems to work. He peeks back down at his strained slacks.

_I don’t know if it was the heightened emotions, all the scandalous talk, or from me just not touching you for a few days because I was too stressed to function, but regardless of why… you’re a real bastard, you know that!? Any other time, sure, remind me you exist, BUT WHY NOW!?_

Wade thinks about the other ways he might typically remedy this problem, but all of them require him to not be in the confessional booth.

 _And I can’t leave like this. There are plenty of rumors already, and I can’t have_ this _added to the mix._

Wade sighs heavily, ready to wait it out although he’s also drumming his fingers on his thighs impatiently. He attempts to think mundane and distracting thoughts, but he keeps ending up replaying Father Parker’s words in his mind. Sweat-soaked skin against another’s, using one’s mouth to make him undone, writhing on the bed...

_Father Parker… writhing on the bed… the bed in the rectory with the blue quilt and too many pillows…_

And as Wade thinks about how Father Peter would look in such a position, he finds himself slipping his hands into his slacks, palming against his member through his underwear. He notes how damp it has already become and finds it even harder to resist his urges. With one last check on the emptiness of the room and the security of the confessional door, Wade reaches back down.

He makes quick work of himself, worried about being caught. He struggles to hold his breathing back just in case and ends up clamping a hand over his mouth as he feels himself inching towards climax. With a few more rough tugs, his thumb teasing his tip with each upstroke, Wade grunts a bit too loudly as he rushes to lift his shirt, feeling himself release, a wet, warm spot appearing on his stomach. He sits there and rides out the orgasm, trying to catch his breath faster than usual. He wipes his hand off on the inside of his underwear before slowly lowering his shirt over the remnants of his mess.

Focusing on his breath to distract himself from the guilt, Wade sits there for a moment, his right hand held out awkwardly from the rest of himself.

_Did not think this through… It’s better than walking outside fully aroused, but not by much…_

He slowly exits the confessional booth, trying to remain as quiet as possible when he leaves the church, hoping not to catch anyone’s attention. As he briskly makes his way home to change, he berates himself for what he has just done.

_In the church. On the fucking priest’s side of the confessional booth. Are you serious, Wade?_

_After that whole conversation about my sins not being selfish or carnal or whatever, I then go and immediately commit sacrilege. All because of… of what!? An inability to control myself? The lust and jealousy I was feeling!?_

_What if someone else came in for confession? What if they had checked the confessional booth while I was still in there? What if it was Father Parker!?_

_That whole conversation we had would have been negated! I would have no choice but to keep away, maybe even move out of town, out of the country!_

_Why am I such an idiot!?_

Wade eventually does make it home and cleans himself up, taking a moment to steady his nerves and convince himself that everything is fine. It takes a lot of pacing and self-berating, but Wade eventually finds a way to calm himself down. Forcing himself to push the last half of the admissions aside, he instead focuses on processing only his confession and Father Peter’s reaction to it.

His imagined best-case scenario was Father Parker allowing him to just quietly walk away for good, no anger or hatred involved. So, to have his confession be treated like any other, with their friendship remaining intact, Wade is beyond relieved.

But as he works in the garden that afternoon, he struggles with the rest of the outcomes of his confession. He feels a whirlwind of emotions and doesn’t know where to start on dealing with them. He feels hatred towards the bureaucracy of the church and the clergy who made matters worse. He also feels a bit of hatred towards the other man Father Parker had been with, convincing himself it was because of the possible betrayal so that he won’t have to admit to the envy he’s feeling. He has lustful thoughts towards Father Peter, which only add to the attraction he feels towards him that go far beyond that of a religious mentor or a good friend. But mostly, he feels like a disappointment. Not just from the deed he has committed in the confessional booth, but from having said aloud his sins to the one person he did not want to know them.

_I’m appreciative that Father Parker doesn’t seem to mind my past or my job, not enough to shun me at least, but if he knew what I was currently feeling towards him…_

_I don’t think our friendship could survive that._

When Wade finishes his work for the day, he realizes he has not seen Father Parker at all that day aside from the brief glimpse of him when they switched sides in the confessional booth.

_Probably for the best, I don’t think either of us can handle looking at each other without bursting into flames of embarrassment at the moment._

Wade puts up the last of the gardening supplies and begins the slow journey home. As he passes the rectory, his mind starts racing, so he once again tries to focus it on his confession and how it panned out better than expected. However, this time he gets stuck on how well Father Parker handled the news when he suddenly remembers a particular reaction that seemed out of place.

_He was so dismissive about why he didn’t seem to care… He almost snapped, trying to avoid that topic. I mean, he can say that all sins are equal all he wants, but murder, regardless of cause… how can one be so serene? This… this suddenly doesn’t feel right…_

Wade is unable to shake the uneasy feeling for the rest of the night. His suspicions drive him to debate over whether or not he should risk everything once again just to inquire about Father Parker’s overly calm demeanor. As he drifts off to sleep, he still hasn’t decided if it is worth the risk.


	21. Sep 28-29, 1957

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Another chapter already?  
> I'm finally able to up the posting schedule to twice a week: Fridays and Sundays.  
> There will, of course, be days where I am unable to post twice in a week, but for the most part I should be able to swing it. (See https://sendadoc.tumblr.com/postschedule for exact dates.)  
> Thank you for your patience and for reading this far.  
> Now enjoy the sin!

There is no question left to answer when Wade wakes up. He knows what he needs to do and gets dressed immediately, hoping to catch Father Parker before he starts his work for the day. He doesn’t bother with his usual cup of coffee, opting to ride out his morning on sheer adrenaline and anxiety. A few droplets of rain fall on his face as he makes his way to the main road, but he pays it no mind. By the time he reaches the road, the droplets begin pelting him more frequently. He quickly glances over his shoulder to look back at his cabin, thinking about his jacket.

“I’ve gone too far,” Wade mumbles under his breath as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking rather briskly towards the church.

At the final turn in the road when the church is finally in sight, the sky opens up, making the road slick, but Wade still tries to sprint. He pauses when he hears a noise and jerks his head to the rectory.

“Yes, you, get over here!” Father Parker is holding an umbrella and gesturing towards him with his free hand.

Wade jogs past Father Parker to the porch of the rectory. As he wipes the rain from his face and tries to wring out his shirt, he asks, “What are you doing here?

“What am I- Wh- I should be asking you that! What in Heaven’s name are you doing!? Running in the rain like that in only a shirt and jeans, I swear-”

“I needed to talk to you.”

Father Parker stills for a moment before gripping the umbrella with both hands.

“It’s about yesterday. I really need to know why- when I told you my sins, you-”

“I see! Okay!” Peter has raised his voice to cut Wade off but lowers it after sheepishly clearing his throat. “Wade, I assure you, your sins are forgiven. Any guilt or remorse you may feel is only Satan trying to get inside your head.”

“That’s not it, I mean, yeah, sure, I’m probably always going to feel guilt over this, but… I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to talk about… about how you handled the news and why you- you just-”

Father Parker rushes up the steps and towards the door to the priory. He ushers Wade inside before shaking out his umbrella and following suit. “Okay. We can talk about it, but let’s get you dried and warmed up a bit first.”

Peter rushes out of the room but soon returns with two towels for Wade. “I don’t think I have anything that might fit you unless you want to be a bit snug in a spare cassock.”

Wade’s snort of a laugh is muffled by the towel. “Nah, I think I’ll be fine.”

Father Parker’s eyes dart down towards the wet fabric clinging to Wade’s skin. “Right.”

Aside from a brief conversation about tea versus coffee, the two men remain quiet as Wade tries his best to dry himself off and Peter prepares the drinks. Wade takes the second towel and places it in his chair before sitting down. He watches as Father Parker fidgets by the counter, taking small steps back and forth and adjusting the cups and sugar bowl ever so slightly. Wade has half a mind to go and help Peter, but fears he might only make him more nervous, perhaps too nervous to actually go through with the conversation. As he wonders what can be making Father Parker so anxious, Wade’s own worries begin multiplying.

He has a brief moment where he convinces himself to just run out, but before he can stand, Father Parker suddenly turns with two cups of coffee in his hands. “Here you go. Hopefully this will warm you up a bit.”

Wade settles back into his seat, taking the cup with a slight nod.

“So… you said something about how I ‘handled the news.’ What- what exactly do you mean?”

Wade takes a quick sip of his drink to busy his hands and mouth, only to hiss at the heat. He tries his best to play it off, unsure if it has worked with Father Parker’s face still contorted in worry. “Well, I essentially confessed to murder. I know you’re a great priest and all, but I just can’t see how you can be so… so-”

“Nonchalant about it?”

Wade nods fervently and leans forward, resting his arms on the kitchen table. “Don’t get me wrong, to hear you say those things about forgiven sins and unselfish motives and such is nice and all, and I appreciate the lack of shunning that’s happening this time around. But it’s almost a bit unnerving how calm you were about it. It’s as if I can’t get full closure over my transgressions unless I understood why you reacted that way, how _anyone_ could have reacted that way over someone taking another’s life.”

Father Parker nods as he swirls his coffee around in his cup. “I understand… give me a moment.”

They sit in silence, long enough for the rain to die down and their cups to be empty. Eventually, Wade’s anxiety reaches a breaking point and he blurts out, “How long have you known?”

“Have I… oh… that! Well, I… I’ve known it _was a possibility_ for several months.”

“Who told you? Deacon Duguay, right?”

Father Parker shakes his head and frowns into his empty cup before standing up from the table. As he walks to pour himself more coffee, he says, “No, Lasalle.”

Wade sighs, feeling his heart drop.

_Him? Really? But he’s the one I like! Well… at least tolerated a lot more… but still! To have him go and-_

“Remember the day you came to talk about communion?”

Wade looks up in time to nod as Father Parker takes his mug to be refilled.

“It was the very next day when Deacon Lasalle started dropping hints. However, it took a few more weeks before he gave me the full rundown. Well, at least his version of it. Duguay had a slightly different tale but there was some overlap.”

Wade mumbles out a thanks as Peter hands him another cup of coffee, but he’s unsure if he’ll be able to keep anything down at this point. “So, you’ve known this whole time. But you- why didn’t you just… believe the worst?”

“Well, I did think about the worst, plenty of times, but not because I wanted to believe it. I wanted to rationalize it. I had plenty of time to do so, months. And I wanted to come to terms with the worst-case scenario, so that’s probably a major contribution to why I handled your confession the way I did. I doubt I would have been so composed if it was the first time I had heard it.”

Wade nods in agreement. “And the worst-case scenario was?”

“Nowhere near what really happened.”

“Tell me.”

Father Parker sighs heavily before saying, “That everything was true. That you have spilled blood. And that you were either living with that guilt, or if there was no guilt, then that I had been so blinded by… other things… to not really know you after all.”

“And you just… came to terms with this?” Wade slumps back into his chair, frustrated that his confusion has only shifted instead of being alleviated.

“I came to terms that it was possible you may have killed. But I couldn’t believe the reasons why or any of that other outlandish stuff I heard. It’s not like you. And you only proved me right when you confessed.”

“What do you-”

“When I offhandedly told you about the issues at the orphanage, not only was there a new replacement door propped up by the entrance the following weekend, but there was a small parcel of cash, wrapped up just like the first time I ever saw you attempt to tithe a large sum.”

Wade stares down at his coffee and suddenly wishes he hadn’t questioned Peter on his acceptance of the rumors.

“I’ve seen numerous secret charitable acts in my time, many of which remain a mystery. But, Wade… there’s no mystery here. I can tell when it’s you. We cross paths nearly every day. I spend more time with you than anyone else in town! Well, maybe the deacons, but that’s purely work-related. I would hope to know you to some degree by now. I know your heart, the kindness in it. And all your work is to help or put others first, not for self-recognition. You still hesitate to speak up for yourself, but you instantly defend the defenseless or aid those who need it. A person who murders in cold blood is not capable of even a fraction of your compassion. So, when I was working through the rumors in my head, I came up with theories, such as killing in the war, maybe manslaughter, you know, something circumstantial or even accidental. Something that clearly haunts you given the way you fight back with only silence. Even now, it’s hard to believe you committed such crimes. Part of me almost wonders if you’re just saying this because you’re starting to believe the rumors too. But your intent behind them, your reasons why you put yourself in such a grey area, that sounds like the loving Wade I’ve come to know.”

“So, when I told you that I have killed, and why I did it…”

“It only proved my point. You’re not some deranged serial killer or anything else these bored townspeople would like to believe just so they can have something to talk about besides produce and the weather.”

Wade sputters on his coffee as he laughs.

Father Parker struggles to stifle his own laughter as he continues. “You had- my gracious, stop making that face… You had good reasons and it sounded like it wasn’t something you actually wanted to do.”

Wade finishes wiping his face clean before saying, “I’m really glad you came to this town. I don’t think any other priest would be so understanding. Even when I confess, I have to be very vague about it, and you can still hear the judgment and unease in their voices. I’m amazed you can rationalize… death… that way.”

Father Parker nods but the smile he has from laughing transforms into something heartbreaking and pained. “I, uh… I wasn’t always like this. I used to be like most of the faithful where sin is sin and everything is black and white, good and evil.”

“What changed? More theology or…?”

Father Parker glances back up at Wade, his brows furrowed. He swallows sharply before turning away. “You’re not the only one with blood on your hands. Makes casting stones a lot harder that way.”

Both men flinch as Wade sets his mug down far too hard on the table.

“You… what do you mean?” Father Parker shakes his head, so Wade reaches across the table, not quite touching him but enough to draw Peter’s eyes back to him. “I know it may be hard, but after everything we shared these past two days…” Wade bites his tongue, not sure if it would be presumptuous to believe that a confession of sins made them closer as friends.

Grimacing as he downs the dregs of his cup, Father Parker nervously glances at Wade several times before turning back towards him. Wade sees the way he is shaking a little, appearing just as nervous as he was at the start of the conversation. It finally clicks for him.

“Is this… is this the real reason why you were able to handle the rumors the way you did?”

Father Parker nods. “It… certainly did help.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

Peter’s shrug evolves into a series of awkward, noncommittal gestures before he groans out and shouts, “It was the war!”

“You were… you were _in_ the war!?”

Father Parker shrugs again. “So to speak, but not as a soldier or anything like that. I was sent to provide spiritual support and last rites to those in rural, make-shift hospitals. However, when you’re being trained, they prepare you for scenarios like the elderly, sudden illness, having to give last rites to those far too young to die, and so forth. They never prepare you for giving last rites to an abandoned schoolhouse full of mangled soldiers wishing either for a miracle of Biblical proportions or for death to finally end their pain. I had no idea that I would be giving last rites to soldiers who would be… They were going to…”

Father Parker closes his eyes, taking steadying breaths. Wade slowly reaches further out until he’s resting his hand on the cuff of Peter’s sleeve. He startles a little when Father Parker’s eyes suddenly open. “I, uh… I mean, it was _war_. You giving last rites to dying soldiers doesn’t mean their blood is on your hands.”

“No, but… being so distraught and in a haze from the shock of it all… I ended up agreeing to something, I didn’t know what, I just knew they needed help, something about ‘mercy.’ It wasn’t until I had literal blood on my hands that I realized they needed help with a few ‘mercy killings,’ which is why they were rushing me to get through so many last rites. They wanted their souls to be squared away before they forced them from this world. Seeing the soldiers I prayed with moments before finally looking so peaceful but realizing why and my personal role in it… I didn’t know how to process it. My uncle tried to comfort me, saying it was for the best since there was no helping them with where we were and the limited medical support. Better to end their suffering now than let it continue on for days with the same end result.”

Wade squeezed Peter’s wrist, saying, “I can only imagine how confused and upset you must have felt, especially when you didn’t realize what was happening until it had happened.”

Father Parker nodded. “Yes, but… I did know what was happening the next time I had to help. I didn’t actually _do it_ , but I was there, helping, and honestly, that was enough to feel like I was at fault. It took me _years_ to come to terms with it, to overcome my guilt, and to understand the complexities of the gray areas of sin that most clergy turn a blind eye to. They can spout off ‘sin is sin’ all they like, but I know firsthand that we are capable of doing the most terrible things for reasons of good, not evil. What if we didn’t mean to do it? What if our good intentions lead to terrible results? Is it the results that are sinful or also our intentions?”

Leaning back into his chair, Wade lets go of Peter’s arm as he breathes out heavily. “You’re getting into the parts of theology I’ve been trying to wrestle since the day I picked up a Bible.”

Peter laughs softly enough that Wade doesn’t hear it. “So, do you now understand how I can so easily rationalize your confession? I didn’t just have a few months to find my stance on sins and this end-all-be-all mentality. It’s been a decade.”

“Probably just a bit over a decade,” Wade adds quietly, calculating his own time since he first took a life.

“Yes, you’re right.” Father Parker grabs the mugs from the table and places them in the sink as he says, “So the hard part wasn’t working out the rumors. The hard part was coming up with a list of things to say for whatever scenario played out if any of them did turn out to be true.”

“Wait, so you-”

Father Parker nods as he turns from the sink. “I did have a few different spiels planned out in case you ever confessed.”

“So, you planned to tell me about your…” Wade abruptly stops gesturing towards Peter, realizing his mouth has spoken without permission again.

Peter blushed. “No, I didn’t- I was just trying to do damage control on my own rumors, but I-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I, uh, I guess I just didn’t have the benefit of early knowledge like you did, so I didn’t have as much time to prepare my own response.” Wade laughs uncomfortably, cursing himself mentally for worsening the situation with a joke. Father Parker grins but Wade can tell that it is uneasy. “I’m sorry… about everything I just said… And I want to assure you that I see you no differently than before.”

As soon as the words escape his mouth, Wade has a tiny voice in his head telling him that is a lie, that he does see Peter completely differently now.

_But it’s not… a negative thing… so it’s okay, right?_

Wade stands suddenly. “I should probably go now.”

“Wait!” Father Parker takes a few steps closer to Wade but remains behind the kitchen table. “I know what’s done is done, but I do wish you would… find something better… something you didn’t have to sneak around for and wouldn’t endanger you. We can even talk about increasing your hours and pay here at the church if you’d like. You have a huge heart, Wade. But it’s of no use to anyone if you remain in such a terrible occupation and end up getting yourself hurt or killed.”

“Hasn’t happened yet,” Wade sing-songs but immediately regrets it, mind suddenly racing with memories of all the times he has been hurt on the job.

“Then at least promise me you will try your best not to kill or harm anyone anymore… unless…”

“Unless what?”

Father Parker sighs. “Just don’t do it unnecessarily.”

“I, um, I’m not sure… what you mean…”

“I mean that if you must _do something_ to survive and come home, then… well… I know the church deals in absolutes. ‘Sin is sin.’ So, as your priest I shouldn’t say this, but as your friend… I would be… I would be devastated if anything happened to you. So please…”

Wade grins broadly despite himself and turns to leave. “I promise I’ll always come home.”

As he shuts the door, Wade can hear Father Parker replying, but he can’t make out the words. He pauses with his hand still on the door handle, debating whether he should ask. A few seconds pass before he shrugs and walks off, heading home for drier clothes to work in.

The next morning, service and work progress as normally as before. Any unease that Wade has felt this past week now seems like a moment from years ago. He genuinely feels like he might have found a place to belong finally. However, he realizes this doesn’t apply to the whole town. He’s still walking on eggshells, having to hide so many parts of himself, but he has just enough hope to smile at the priest when he greets the congregation.

 _As long as Father Parker is leading the church, I do have a home to return to_.


	22. Sep 30-Oct 17, 1957

The following morning, Wade wakes to the sound of a storm raging outside. He races out to his porch to secure a few items and move his plants inside. Once done, he brews himself some coffee and starts a fire in the fireplace. With a warm mug in hand, he sits near a window and watches the storm move through the trees. He knows there will be a lot of debris to clean up afterwards but hearing the sound of the rain on the roof and seeing how resilient nature is to such a strong force, he’s enjoying the moment for what it’s worth.

“If only Father Peter was here…”

_What the hell are you saying?_

Wade downs the rest of his coffee, cringing at the sudden heat, before he hastily stands up to occupy himself with something other than thoughts about his priest.

The storm finally dies down to a mere drizzle by the time Wade makes lunch for himself. As he is cooking the glazed carrots, he thinks about how he has snuck them from the garden. He knows he is allowed to, but he still has a fleeting thought of teasing Father Parker, confessing to taking food from the garden again just to see how he’ll react. As he pictures Father Parker trying not to smile while giving Wade his usual long suffering sigh, his pleasant thoughts are interrupted. He stills a moment, allowing the carrots to cook on one side for too long, as he remembers his last confession just days before and how that turned out for him. He tries his best to push that thought aside as he eats, hoping that he can manage to pretend he left immediately after his confession and the rest of it never happened.

_Everything is fine now, and I do believe we’re closer than before. Even so, I think it might be best just to keep a mental list of my sins for a while. There’s no way I’m getting back into that confessional booth anytime soon._

By the time he finishes his meal, the rain finally stops, allowing Wade to step out onto his porch to start clearing it. He works his way down his path, removing leaves, twigs, and branches, until he gets to the end. Just before the main road, there is a fallen bird’s nest on the ground. Wade picks it up, examining it.

_No feathers or anything else stuck to it. Maybe it was incomplete, or hopefully at least unoccupied at the moment. Either way…_

Wade wedges it into a tree nearby, hoping that it could be put to good use one day.

He then makes his way down to the church to check on the garden, his boots slowly becoming caked in mud as he kicks debris out of his way while he walks.

When he arrives at the church, he sees that some of the clergy and a few congregation members that live nearby are hastily running around the grounds, trying to clean up. But what seems most odd is the amount of people gathered around one spot by the side of the church.

As he approaches, Father Parker looks over briefly, then does a double take, shouting, “Here he is! Mr. Wilson can probably do it!”

Wade slows his pace as two more of the clergy and an elderly church member turn towards him and start asking questions at the same time.

“Woah, woah, woah. What is going on?” Wade asks, keeping his distance.

They all start gesturing to the window and talking at once, so Wade steps forward to find the answer himself. He sees that part of the window was busted in the storm, the bottom corner of the stained-glass design now missing, most likely in pieces inside the church.

“I heard you were the one to do the wood paneling for the broken window panes on the shed?” asks a voice from behind him, but Wade cannot respond. He just stands there with his jaw squared and his fists clenched, trying to not show his anger.

_I know you. I know your voice, Deacon Duguay. You were the one talking the most nonsense the other day, talking about things you had no business to. I really should-_

“No need to be shy, Mr. Wilson.” Wade turns his head towards the sound of Father Parker’s voice, seeing him now turning towards the deacon who spoke. “It was him, I assure you.”

Wade leans down and examines the window more closely. “That was a whole pane I replaced, but this is shattered glass. I can _attempt_ to patch it up in a similar way, but it will not be the same, and it might not be strong enough to hold up against another storm, provided it works at all.”

“That’s fine!” Lasalle chimes in. “As long as you can patch it up for now, we’ll see what we can do about replacing the window.”

Wade nods and turns back to the window but catches the eyes of a boy he doesn’t recognize. The child is clearly eyeing Wade’s scars. He glances away immediately, trying to play it off. Wade notes the kid’s fashion, the brightly colored shirt and shoes not made for working. The boy glances back at Wade and startles when their eyes meet, quickly scrambling away, shouting to another group of workers, asking them if they need any help.

As everyone else tries to clear the church ground, Wade goes and sits on the top steps of the rectory, out of the way, to carve out a panel for the broken window. He carefully chips away at the wood, trying to match the lines he traced earlier. Right as he is sanding down the rough edges, Father Parker comes rushing up the steps. In his hurry, he slips on one of the lower steps, still wet from the storm. He stumbles but doesn’t fall. Wade tries to catch him but reaches out too late. Father Parker has already regained his balance and rushes back up the stairs, a quick apology spilling from his lips as he goes. Wade hears the door to the priory shut behind him and freezes for a moment, unsure of what has just happened. Before he can resume work on the panel, Father Parker rushes by again, startling Wade. He stumbles on the last step but isn’t hindered.

“Have you not learned your lesson!?” Wade shouts at him, lunging forward to catch him, just in case.

Peter simply glances back, smirking, but doesn’t say anything. Wade shakes his head at Father Parker’s recklessness, trying to focus on only that and not the way his smile warms his heart.

_Pull yourself together. It’s nothing like that._

Moments later, Wade glances up just in time to see Father Parker rushing towards the priory once more. Wade quickly sets down his tools and the piece of wood, ready to stop Peter from almost slipping once again. However, as Father Parker approaches his home, he slows down, raising his hands in defense.

“I know, I know. I’ll be careful.” Father Parker says in a mocking tone as he slowly climbs the steps.

“I doubt it,” Wade mumbles before spinning around suddenly. “Wait a moment. Who was the child by the window earlier? I don’t recall ever seeing him.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I should have introduced you! That’s Leon Beaumont. Apparently some of the Beaumont family have moved back this past weekend, which is probably why you haven’t seen him before.”

“Beaumont… Beaumont… wait, as in the widow Beaumont?”

“Yes! That was one of her grandsons!”

Wade nods thoughtfully as he sits back down to finish the window repairs. He smiles to himself, glad to see a family being reunited like this, though he also feels a slight pang of jealousy. He works more fervently to suppress his thoughts of longing for his own family.

Wade soon finishes the replacement panel and goes to place it into the broken window. The fit is good, but he soon realizes his error. There is nothing to keep the plank in place, nothing to secure it to the glass or the metal frame. He argues with one of the deacons about it, most solutions ending in the risk of breaking the glass, so ultimately they decide to leave Wade’s carved piece standing in place, then cover most of the window with a larger piece of wood, just in case.

“That’s not going to hold, especially if there’s another storm,” Wade’s least favorite deacon says.

“But it’ll have to do.”

“I don’t know why we believed you when you said you could do this,” Deacon Duguay said indignantly.

“I never said I could, just that I would _try_ , which I did.” Wade snaps back, prompting the deacon to walk off in a huff.

Father Parker cautiously approaches, brushing up against Wade’s arm. Wade flinches a little, trying to fight against his immediate reaction to pull away. But as Father Peter stands there next to him, Wade regrets not allowing himself to move. He can barely feel Father Parker’s arm against his, but he can definitely feel the heat from his body.

Father Parker seems unphased by their proximity, simply staring at the window, considering it for a moment before saying, “I think it’ll do just fine. Don’t mind him.”

“I won’t. I know my worth.”

“Oh?” Father Parker turns a bit, cocking an eyebrow. “I can’t tell if this is confidence or arrogance.”

Wade shrugs before walking off, mumbling something about tending to the garden. He knows where that comment stems from, but he can’t tell Father Parker that it was out of disdain for a particular deacon. He doesn’t want to add to all the gossip that already plagues this town.

The following Wednesday, Wade finds himself sitting at the kitchen table of the rectory, helping Father Parker review his upcoming sermons and homilies. But instead of sitting across from one another, Father Parker pulls a chair up next to Wade and works on a passage directly with him.

_And I thought standing outside that window with him was rough. I can barely function right now._

They work for about an hour until Father Parker stands suddenly. “Wait, I think I have something for this.”

He hurries to his room, coming back with a marked-up piece of paper. As he enters the room he says, “I scrapped this whole paragraph a while back, but I think now’s the time to use it.”

Wade looks back to the passage he was reading earlier, expecting Father Parker to sit back down and start working again. Instead, he suddenly feels a weight on his shoulder. He quickly looks over to see Peter standing on the other side of him, hand gently resting on Wade as he begins reading the paragraph in question. Wade sits there, staring at the hand out of the corner of his eye.

As he finishes, Father Parker says, “So, what do you think?”

“I, uh… well… how about you let me read it again.”

Father Parker sighs heavily. “I was afraid of that. It doesn’t-”

“No! No, I just… I wasn’t as focused as I should be, that’s all. Sorry.”

Wade reaches up and takes the paper from Father Parker just before he moves around to the other side of Wade to sit back down.

_Good job, just completely lost focus there because he was standing too close and touching you. What a pathetic excuse. Really need to pull yourself together before you mess everything up._

They manage to get through the rest of the homilies with minimal contact or distractions for Wade. However, as he is leaving the rectory, Father Parker stops him. He tells him about an upcoming luncheon on Friday where all the clergy and staff of the church will be in attendance. When Wade gives him a confused look, Father Parker points out, “As someone who gets paid by the church, that includes you.”

“Oh! I, uh… I don’t think I should go.”

“Nonsense!”

“Exactly, it’s nonsense,” Wade snarks as he tries to head out the door.

But then Father Parker reaches out, grabbing onto Wade’s arm. Wade freezes in place, turning only his head to look at the priest. Father Parker slips his hand down a little, now carefully holding onto him by the wrist, his fingers moving slightly to get a better grip, rubbing past the skin just below his palm. Wade curses himself for feeling so flustered at such a simple touch.

“Please. It’s for anyone involved with church functioning. It would mean a lot to me if you could-”

“I-I can’t. I don’t think anyone is ready for that, myself included.”

Peter tilts his head to the side, face clearly studying Wade’s. After a brief pause he says, “Please be honest with me. Is it at least a little better than before? Your relationship with the town, the church?”

“Considering you’re seriously trying to make me have a meal with the clergy instead of leaving me to my own devices, I’d say so.”

“Hm. In that case, I’ll make an excuse for you, but promise me you’ll try to go to the next one.”

“Promise.”

“And that you’ll come over for coffee that afternoon so I can fill you in on what you’ve missed.”

Wade gives him a small smile. “Now that I can manage.”

Father Parker nods slightly at him before slowly letting go of Wade’s wrist, allowing him to leave. As Wade walks home, he finds himself gently caressing his wrist, wondering how long the heat will linger.

_I know it’s been a while, but I shouldn’t be so worked up about being touched… I’ve been acting ridiculous these days._

_No, not just these days. It’s been going on for a while. Even if he never touched me, I would still be messed up, because for a while now… for the past few months… I believe how I feel about him… it’s like how I once felt ab-_

_NO!_

_I can’t. I can’t say that. I can’t even think it. No. It’s not right._

_The last time I felt that way, it ended in death. I can’t let that happen again._

_I can’t let Father Peter die because of me._

Wade sneaks back down to the church late that night to leave a note for Father Parker. He explains that he will be away for a while, and he feels guilty for lying. He does have an upcoming mission, but his wording in the letter is more vague than usual. He knows his note will make Peter assume he has been contracted to go off to his other job immediately and will not be back for a while. The truth is, Wade will only be gone for a few days that following week. He simply wants more time away from the church without Father Parker checking in on him.

_There is no way I can keep working so closely to him if I can’t function properly just being near him. I need some time to gather myself before I completely ruin everything he’s worked so hard to build for me._

Wade leaves two days earlier to ensure extra alone time, completes his mission, and returns home. However, he stays cooped up in his cabin, wanting more time for himself.

Two days later, he hears a strange sound on his porch. He grabs a smaller gun and makes his way to one of the windows. He slowly peers out and sees Father Parker walking back down the path. Wade waits until he is out of sight before opening the door, a folded piece of paper falling down.

Wade picks it up and reads the note Father Parker left for him. Apparently, Peter is concerned since he does not know when Wade will be back, and that it’s been well over a week now. Wade smiles but feels guilty at the worry Father Parker experiences for him, laughing softly to himself at the postscript.

_“The new window comes in tomorrow, so you better be back by then. If you can’t make it because you’ve done something foolish or gotten yourself injured, then I better see you in confession. I don’t know what sin that would be, but I’ve got time to figure it out.”_

_Guess I need to show my face soon, then._

Wade immediately puts the note away before slowly making his way down to the church. He casually waves at Father Parker as he waters the garden, trying not to laugh at his shocked but delighted face.

“Glad to see you’re finally back!”

“I promised you I’d come home.”

The next day, Wade and two other men from the church struggle to put the new window in place without breaking it as Father Parker nervously watches the whole time. There was one brief, scary moment and a few raised voices, but they have managed to get it installed securely. Once done, they all stand outside, admiring the work.

Father Parker shakes the hands of both men who helped, thanking them for their service. As Peter approaches Wade, Wade hesitates on holding his hand out. But Father Parker doesn’t try to shake it. Instead, he walks up beside him, clapping a hand on his back before saying, “Well done! You did an excellent job!”

Wade takes a deep breath and mimics Father Peter’s actions, chuckling at the way Father Parker shifts forward slightly when Wade’s hand makes contact with his back. “And excellent job of staring at us with a worried look, Father.”

Peter turns his head quickly, glaring at Wade, before he starts laughing. Wade feels the same little flip in his chest whenever he sees that wide grin, the one where Father Parker flashes all his teeth and the corners of his eyes wrinkle. But this time, he isn’t bothered by the feeling; rather, he enjoys it.

_I’m still so far gone… but I think I can manage this…_

And Father Parker feels the same way.


	23. Oct 30, 1957

Recently, the ladies’ group had a very successful trip to the orphanage. They were able to spend plenty of time playing with the children, reading to them, and helping them with their studies. And thanks to the efforts of the town, they were also able to donate quite a lot of clothing, food, and supplies. However, upon their return, the bins used to carry all donation items were left in the back of one of the CCD rooms and have remained there for roughly two weeks, much to Father Parker’s displeasure.

He eventually decides to take matters into his own hands, bringing the bins upstairs to the supplies room. There is a giant shelving unit on the back wall, and the bins are supposed to be placed on top since they are rarely used. However, given the height of the shelf, there is no way Father Parker can put them up without a ladder.

He searches around the room and eventually finds an old A-frame ladder, the yellow paint mostly chipped off at this point. He sets it up in front of the shelves, shaking it a bit and frowning at how it doesn’t want to stand firm on the ground.

“As long as it can hold up for three bins, I should be fine,” Peter mumbles to himself.

He grabs the first bin and climbs the ladder, hesitating as soon as both feet are no longer on the ground, the ladder shifting beneath him. Otherwise, he has no problem putting up the bin. As he takes a few steps down, he hears Wade’s panicked voice say, “Father! What are you doing?”

“Just putting a few things away,” Father Parker replies, reaching down to grab the second bin. “Is there a problem?”

He is already working his way back up the ladder again, trying to maneuver the bin up over his head, when Wade says, “I thought I had thrown that ladder out?”

“What do you m-mean?” Father Parker’s voice hitches when he feels a gentle press to his back. He looks down to see Wade standing beside him, one hand reaching up. He tries to continue putting up the bin but finds himself distracted by Wade’s hand, warm on the small of his back.

“When I was fixing up the church, there was a broken ladder, and I tossed it out. For a second there, I thought it was this one.”

Standing on his toes, Father Parker gives a small grunt as he shoves the second bin up on the shelf. “I don’t see why you’re worried. Could you hand me the last one?” Father Peter reaches over with both hands, but Wade shakes his head.

“I’ll do it, just get down from-”

“It’s fine! Besides, I’m almost done.”

“I don’t think you should-”

Both men cry out as the top step of the ladder buckles, the ladder folding in on itself just enough to cause Father Parker to fall backwards. Wade lurches towards Father Parker, managing to cradle him awkwardly, as he himself falls towards the ground, landing hard on one knee.

Wade hisses in pain. He struggles to situate himself, arms still firmly around Father Parker’s torso. But upon hearing that sharp intake of breath, Peter tries to stand, turning himself to get a better look at Wade.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing.” Father Parker feels himself being pulled upright as Wade stands. “But what about you?”

“I, uh… I…” Father Parker is having trouble assessing himself for injury since he’s distracted by Wade stepping closer to him, one arm still around his back, preventing him from backing away. “I think… I’m okay?”

“Are you sure? You don’t sound too sure…”

Wade hesitantly reaches his hand up. It is only a centimeter away from Father Parker’s face when he freezes. Peter darts his eyes to the hand, barely hearing his own breath hitch, when his body decides to react for him. He tilts his head, cheek barely meeting Wade’s fingertips.

“I do believe…” Peter trails off as Wade slowly moves his hand against Father Parker’s cheek, gently cupping his face as he stares at the priest, fear and concern afflicting his face.

“What? What is it?”

Father Peter takes some time to register the question. He presses his face further against the hand, closing his eyes and breathing out a contented sigh.

“Father?”

Peter opens his eyes, realizing what he is doing, why he is doing it, and pulls his face away from Wade’s hand. “I’m fine. Yes, I’m…”

He tries to take a step back, Wade’s other arm sliding against his back.

“Are you-”

“I swear to you, I am completely fine.” Father Parker takes another step away, backing up into the fallen ladder, and Wade’s arm slides further still until it is no longer on his back, but he quickly grabs onto Father Parker’s lower arm instead. In a moment of increased guilt and panic because of it, Father Parker sternly says, “No damage done, Mr. Wilson.”

Wade’s face suddenly goes from concerned to perplexed. He mouths the name to himself as he lets go of Father Peter’s arm, pausing briefly before lowering his hand.

Father Parker had thought that being firm with Wade would help the situation but only finds himself dealing with another type of guilt.

_Should not have used his name like that. I just-_

“Oh, did I-”

“No, I…” Father Parker doesn’t know what he is going to say, just that he doesn’t want Wade to question it.

_Not when it’s all my fault. Not when I…_

“Wade.” Father Parker clears his throat, hoping to give him more time for the name to register, but Wade’s face does not change. Peter stares into those disappointed eyes as he continues. “I think I may have caused… a misunderstanding, of sorts.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…” Father Parker darts his eyes to the door, suddenly aware of how public their interactions have been. He lowers his voice as he says, “I think it’s best if we take this to… I suppose my office should suffice. Yes, follow me.”

Wade opens his mouth to speak, but Father Parker brushes past him quickly, rushing out of the door. As he hurries down the stairs, he places a hand over his heart, praying that it will calm down. By the time he gets to his office, however, he finds himself more unsteady, feeling almost dizzy just thinking about the nature of the conversation they are about to have.

As soon as Father Parker enters his office, he stands to the side and gestures for Wade to take a seat. Wade gives him a wary look before lowering his head and walking towards the old chair. Father Parker then peeks out into the hallway before closing the door, hesitating before he decides that locking it will appear even more suspicious. Peter then goes to his chair, turning it so he can face Wade directly.

_Lord, please give me strength… Let me say what needs to be said to ensure I don’t ruin his life along with mine…_

“What’s going on?”

Peter feels another pain in his chest when he hears how weakly Wade has spoken.

“I just wanted to clarify a few things… and apologize.”

Wade tilts his head in confusion but says nothing.

“When I… When I told you the truth of why I was sent here, I was only… I don’t know… I think I was just trying to be open and honest with you, to let you know of my own shady past from my own lips, like you were doing, but also trying to show you that your sins weren’t really sins.”

Wade nods. “I know…”

“Good. Then I don’t need to explain that there was nothing else to it. I didn’t mean to… I don’t know what’s going on, Wade, but it is not my intent to attempt to… to _influence_ you… or even to simply confuse you. I mean… I know you’re not… not like me…” Father Parker then turns his head away, speaking softly to himself. Wade barely hears the words “…had a wife, of course he’s not like me…”

“Well, I…” _No… explaining that will_ not _help the situation._ Wade stops talking and looks back down at his hands folded on his lap, allowing Father Parker to continue.

Father Parker looks back at him, leaning close and giving him the same look he uses during sermons whenever he talks about falling from grace. “I know you’re not nearly as sinful as me, so to speak. But I’m worried your behavior is… is because of me… because of my terrible influence.” Wade jerks his head up and shakes it, but Father Parker presses on. “I didn’t think this would be a problem. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything, but what’s done is done, and I am sorry. Sorry for any confusing thoughts or feelings, or if I have done anything to cause you to think… to think that this is okay… Like I’ve said, it has never been my intention to be of any kind of influence on you.”

“I understand… and you haven’t. You…” Wade trails off, realizing he can’t be as honest as he wants to with Father Parker.

_The thoughts and feelings are my own, but I do have to admit that knowing more about it, being around you, that doesn’t help the situation. But you’re not the root of the problem, I am._

Father Parker then looks away, suddenly hyper-focused on the view through the window. “I really am sorry, Wade.”

_Stop. Just Stop. I don’t want to hear any more apologies. It’s… it’s me… I just… I can’t help it. And to hear you saying sorry is just… don’t… It’s too hard to hear._

_I care for you too much… I… I feel… I…_

With a heavy sigh, Wade settles on, “You are not an influence in any way, except how to live righteously. So please, stop talking like that.”

Father Parker peers back over at Wade, struggling to suppress the small smile slowly creeping onto his face. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure you knew that I wasn’t trying to… _you know_ …” Father Parker makes a vague twirling gesture with his hand. “I wasn’t… I wouldn’t do that. Not to you. I…”

“Right. Yes, I know.” Wade quickly shakes his head, hoping to stop Father Parker from saying more, from being overly inarticulate in his rejection of Wade, thus breaking his heart further.

“Right, so now that everything is all sorted…” Father Parker looks back at Wade, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly, like he does every time he has a new list of tasks for Wade to complete. “Do you mind putting up the last of the bins and disposing of that blasted ladder? I know you said you trashed it before but clearly someone didn’t think it needed to be disposed of.”

Wade takes a moment to respond, feeling a bit of whiplash at Father Parker’s ability to go back to normal, as if there is no such thing as an awkward conversation for him. “I, uh, yeah. I’ll take it elsewhere if need be.”

Father Parker grins at him. “Excellent. Oh, and tomorrow, would you be able to-”

“No.”

Father Parker gives him a shocked expression. “N-no?”

Wade shakes his head. “Actually… I think I’ll just take care of those things, then tend to the garden for a bit before heading home. I have to leave soon, for… you know…”

“Oh, right… I see… Just… just please be safe?”

Wade smiles, suddenly realizing that this is the first time he smiled since he saw Father Parker today. “Of course.”

“Where are you going, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Berlin.”

“Oh. That’s… well… how long will you be gone this time?”

_Oh… oh no…_

Wade had impulsively thought about pulling the same stunt he did last time, leaving earlier than his mission to clear his head. But it isn’t until Father Parker has inquired about the time frame that Wade realizes he wouldn’t be leaving on his next mission for another two and a half weeks.

_Guess I’m going to be visiting that idiot and may just take the scenic route and play tourist in Italy and Switzerland while on my way up to Berlin. Yeah, that’ll work._

“It’ll be well over a month. I’ll be back sometime in December, hopefully towards the start, depending on how things go and how rough the winters are.”

Wade doesn’t know what to make of Father Parker’s crestfallen face.

“I see… well, please stay safe. And send word, if possible, to let me know you’re alright.”

Wade grins before saying, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Without another word, Wade slips out of Father Parker’s office and heads back upstairs to take care of the last bin and the broken ladder.

Father Parker stares out the door long after Wade leaves, thinking about where they stand.

_It’s true that I didn’t mean to influence him… but… it would be a lie if I said that I didn’t enjoy the thought that he was… that he could… at least towards me…_

_But Wade is not like me, and I shouldn’t do anything to try to change that._

Meanwhile, Wade takes care of the last of his tasks. As he heads home, he passes by the clergy house, almost certain that Father Parker is not home. He stares at the door for a moment before heading towards the road.

_I’m such an idiot. I got scared again and lied about when I have to leave. And now I won’t be able to see Father Peter for over a month, right when I… when I can finally… now that I know for certain…_

_I love him._

Wade can’t understand how he can feel both relieved and burdened when he can finally admit it to himself. He has denied his feelings in the hopes that it will save Father Parker from a similar fate to Vanessa’s. But recently, he’s begun to realize that lying to himself will have no impact on that; it only keeps his sins separate from Father Parker’s own.

_And after that talk in his office, keeping our sins separate won’t be an issue if he’s not… if he doesn’t see me as… I mean, I’ve loved him for a while now, but… Yeah, maybe it’s best to take a month away from him._

Once Wade makes it home, he starts cooking a small pan of beef bourguignon. He pours some wine into the pan before he takes a sip straight from the bottle. He cringes at the taste, not realizing he’d grabbed the wrong bottle; the wine is much sweeter than he expected. As he thinks about how this will affect the taste of the sauce, he takes another swing, allowing the notes of the wine to play on his tongue, enjoying the lack of tannins this second time.

_Still much sweeter than I’d prefer but probably not as sweet as Father Peter’s lips. I’m sure he- What-? Why am I-?_

Wade shakes his head and sets the bottle down heavily on the counter.

_That will never happen, so why bother even entertaining the thought?_

Wade wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache, realizing he’d drank too much the night before. He shuffles into the kitchen and looks around for the bottle, finding it on the counter next to the plates that didn’t quite make it into the sink. He washes the dishes before shoving the bottle of wine back into the cabinet, shaking it in the process.

_Still half full, so it wasn’t a lot, but apparently enough for someone who barely drinks aside from sips with food._

Sitting heavily at his table, he regrets drinking the night before, suddenly remembering the thoughts he had that led him to overindulge. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life or why he’s still alive. He has a secret goal, but it’s a bit abstract and not exactly feasible at this time. That only serves to worsen the drunken doubts he had last night that are still trying to creep in.

Even so, he can’t help but think that he was happy for a bit, feeling a sense of belonging somewhere for the first time in years. He almost regrets being happy, thinking that someone like him doesn’t deserve it. With a frustrated groan, he gets up, washes his face to help himself wake, and then leaves. He has work to do, but it’s not with the church.


	24. Nov 1 - Dec 11, 1957

Father Parker wakes the next day, taking his time to get ready for a long day of tasks and errands. He suddenly realizes the time and figures Wade may be out in the garden already. He peeks out the window and sees that it’s empty except for a few birds. He raps his fingers on the wall, trying to determine if Wade is just late until he suddenly recalls their conversation from yesterday.

“Oh… that’s right… one month… maybe more.”

Father Parker sighs heavily before finishing his coffee. He heads out the door feeling less enthusiastic about the day, knowing full and well the cause of it.

Over the next few weeks, Father Parker finds himself looking around for Wade at times, secretly hoping he has returned earlier than expected. At first, he assumes he is only wishing for Wade to be there in a strictly business sense. He hopes that Wade will return suddenly every time he struggles in the garden or believes he has done something that might kill the plants. He finds a crack, a leak, or some splintering wood and wishes Wade would appear in time to repair it. He works on a homily or sermon and wants a second opinion, which the other clergy might have been happy to oblige, but Father Parker still wants Wade to be there instead.

Recently, he’s harvested some vegetables from the garden and finds himself looking up, hoping to see Wade walking along the path, ready to scold him either for picking them too early or letting them sit on the vine for too long. But Wade never appears, and those thoughts soon turn into wishing Wade will appear just in time to select a few vegetables from the basket to make lunch for the both of them.

_Wait… that’s not… that’s not his job. It’s a kind gesture, but it’s not…_

Father Peter sits back on his heels, looking at the basket of squash he’s harvested, realizing the one he just cut is not quite as dark as the rest. He thinks about it for a moment before finally admitting the truth to himself.

_I just miss him. Not as a gardener or repairman or a person willing to help me with theology. I miss my friend._

Father Parker spends the rest of November finding more moments he wishes to see Wade or at least have some sort of way to talk with him. There are even times when something transpires in the church, and Peter can almost hear his voice making some lame joke about it under his breath. But as December approaches, Father Parker’s longing starts to turn into worry.

He often thinks about how he asked Wade to send word. Twice before, a mysterious letter had appeared at the rectory, just a brief message to let Father Parker know everything was okay but that Wade will be returning a bit later than expected. He knows Wade isn’t sure exactly when in December he will be returning, but as each day passes, Father Parker grows more anxious. He checks for more of the mysterious letters each morning and evening, but finds none, his heart feeling burdened each time.

It is the second Wednesday in December when Father Parker decides to work on his sermon from home. He reads over it twice, proud of how in-depth the theological perspective is on this particular topic, but soon frowns, concerned that it might be going too deep into the text.

_If only Wade was here to read over this and let me know if it’s too much for our congregation._

He reads the sermon once more, making notes to reexamine certain parts later, then decides to head to bed early. He has been going to bed early and been slower to rise these past few days, blaming it on the colder weather, but that reason is really only a small fraction of it.

_Without Wade here, it can get a bit boring._

Father Parker checks outside again for a letter, quickly heading back inside to warm up from the cold winter wind. He rubs his hands and arms while standing near the heater, saying a small prayer for Wade to remain safe and to return soon. He repeats the prayer in his head as he changes into warmer clothes and heads for bed. Soon he falls asleep, wondering how many mornings he will spend looking out his window until Wade is there in the garden.

He wakes a few hours later to a sudden knock on his door, loud enough to startle him, causing him to panic momentarily at the thought of something malicious. There is more banging on the door as he rushes towards the front of the priory. He throws the door open without thinking and gapes at the sight.

Wade stands there, clutching his hands together against the left side of his chest. Father Parker feels uneasy at the sight of all the blood, unable to react in any way until Wade says between panting breaths, “Help.”

Father Parker quickly reaches out and grabs Wade by the arm, ushering him inside. “The kitchen,” Peter half-shouts as he goes to shut the door and find whatever bandages, medicines, and rags that may be stashed away in the clergy house. He soon returns to the kitchen with limited supplies and finds Wade sitting at the table, cringing and hissing, trying to remove his jacket but seeming to struggle.

“Let me help.”

The chair squeaks against the floor as Wade suddenly shifts back. “No! Don’t.”

Father Parker stares at him, bewildered.

“I mean… yes, but first you have to promise me two things.”

Father Parker steps forward, hands outstretched towards the gash on Wade’s cheek as he says, “I hardly think-”

“Father!”

Peter stills.

“I’m serious. Promise me you won’t look at my hands and that you won’t say a word about this to anyone.”

Father Parker’s eyes drift down towards Wade’s hand, realizing he has them tucked up under his jacket, streaks of blood coming from them. He steps forward ready to help while arguing about the promise when Wade coughs a little before wincing, blood falling from his mouth.

“I… I promise.”

Wade raises his brow at him.

“I promise I won’t look or say anything. Just please, let me help.”

Wade nods, and Father Parker helps him out of his jacket. He feels sick when he realizes the shirt underneath is worse. As Father Parker helps him roll up the material, apologizing incessantly while it sticks to Wade’s chest, he feels tears starting to well up at the sight before him. There are gashes all along Wade’s torso and upper arms, the part that Wade is allowing Father Parker to see, keeping everything below the elbows tucked away inside his bloodied shirt. But the most concerning part is the two giant wounds on the left side of Wade’s chest just below the shoulder, a small flow of blood steadily streaming out.

Father Parker quickly reaches for a towel and presses it to Wade’s chest, causing him to hiss.

“I’m sorry,” Peter murmurs before clearing his throat and speaking in a more normal register, albeit shakily. “What happened? It looks as though… as though you’ve been shot!”

“I was,” Wade says, closing his eyes due to feeling faint. “I had-”

“You need to go to the hospital!”

Father Parker starts to stand when Wade exclaims, “No! I can’t!”

“But-”

“No, please, just trust me on this one. It would do more damage than good if I go.”

“But you were shot!”

“And I’ll be fine. Trust me. I just need to-”

“I am not a doctor! I cannot-”

“Father Peter! Please!”

Peter huffs out angrily but still finds himself scared by Wade’s furious tone. However, the next thing Wade says comes out in a desperate whisper.

“I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

Father Parker decides not to argue further, given how Wade seems to have exerted himself too much, swaying slightly and breathing harder, the color now drained from his face. Peter simply gives him a stern look as he thinks about how to get a doctor to come to the priory instead.

Wade brings his hands up to his chest, pressing the wadded-up fabric of his shirt and the towel onto his wound. His jaw is set firmly as he stares back. Suddenly, he groans in frustration before rolling his eyes and saying, “How about you just help me out for ten minutes, then we can reassess if I should go to the hospital. Besides, you promised you wouldn’t say a word.”

Father Parker grabs a clean kitchen towel, pressing it to the gash on Wade’s face as he bargains, “Five minutes.”

“Fine.” Wade grumbles but gives him a small smile.

Using two bowls of water, Father Parker works on cleaning up the rest of Wade’s wounds, starting from his face and working downward. He has thought before of what Wade might look like without his shirt on, wondering what his skin would feel like under his hand, how his fingers would move along the muscles.

_But this is nowhere near the situation I imagined._

When Wade is looking less like he’s about to pass out, Father Parker asks, “So, what happened?”

“I came home just like I promised,” Wade says quietly.

“I appreciate that, but what really happened?”

Wade swallows, shifting his hands against his chest. “I um… well… you know about my job, so you can guess the kind of people I run into.”

“But these are fresh. Was it someone in town!?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. It was my own foolishness… My mission, it didn’t go well. A few people got away, but they were lackeys, so I didn’t really pay it much mind and decided to come home since it’s been so long. I hitched a ride with a caravan when one of them said they were actually heading near here and would give me a lift. And when my ride separated from the group to drop me off, they pulled off towards an old side road and tried to attack me.”

Father Parker’s hands still on Wade’s stomach, no longer wiping away the blood and grime from the wounds. “They attacked you!?”

Wade nods. “Turns out they were from that failed job and were looking for a way to get back at me for… for ending their boss. Not the brightest bunch though when they were using knives and fists for a bit before one of them suddenly remembered he had a gun.”

Father Parker shakes his head as he stands. “Is that why you didn’t want me to say anything?”

“Eh, part of it.”

“Well, unfortunately, your time is up, so-”

“Oh, no, no. Check first.” Wade says, lowering his arms. Father Parker hesitates before peeling the towel away. He stares at the wound a bit confused. He dampens a corner of the towel and carefully wipes around the chest wound, confusion only increasing.

“Well… I suppose you’re right… it’s not bleeding anymore. But… I must be tired, because it looks almost like it’s shrunk a little.”

“Ah, right, so… no hospital?”

Father Parker shakes his head. “I suppose not, though you really ought to go to get the bullets out. It’s a miracle it was high enough to miss your lungs or heart, but you still wouldn’t want to leave them inside of you.”

Wade fights against a smirk before he says, “Hey, do you mind checking my back?”

“Oh my gracious, I didn’t even think to-” Father Parker hurries around as Wade scoots up from the chair, giving him better access. “There’s… there’s two holes-”

“Yup, knew it. Exit wounds. So, the bullets aren’t inside. No need to go to the hospital!”

“I suppose not.” Father Parker sighs heavily before looking away for a moment, suddenly feeling a bit nauseated by the whole ordeal.

_Get a hold of yourself. You’ve seen worse in the war, and Wade needs your help. You need to find a way to get him to a doctor eventually._

Father Parker grabs a towel and starts to clean the injuries on Wade’s back, hesitating when he realizes that the exit wounds are looking smaller than those in the front.

_Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? And these exit wounds are looking a bit… clean… the skin isn’t as jagged as you’d expect. At least not in my experience._

Father Parker then goes to check Wade’s front again, pausing when he realizes the gash on Wade’s cheek looks like nothing more than a papercut at this point.

He moves the towel on Wade’s chest, staring at the wounds before saying, “Wade, it seems that… I don’t know if you’ve been praying or if this is a fever dream, but… your wounds!”

“Ah, yeah, well, I do believe I’ve told you before that I heal quickly.”

“This isn’t just healing quickly, this is… I don’t know, but it’s not normal!”

Wade hisses. “Oh. Ouch. I hate when people say that.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just-”

Wade removes one arm from the wadded-up shirt and tries to wave Father Parker off. “It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just really hard to explain. I… what are you… oh, hell…”

Wade quickly tries to hide his hand when he realizes that Father Parker is staring, but he isn’t quick enough. Father Parker reaches out, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand closer. He stares at the fingers, or what’s left of them. It appears that they are all cut right at the first knuckle, four stubs on his hand, but atop each of them is a thin, tapered appendage, almost like the tiniest fingers he’s ever seen. He gently wipes at one, realizing the blood is only caked on from earlier; there is no open wound.

He slowly lets go and sits down harshly on the kitchen floor. “I… I can’t believe… oh, I think I’m going to be sick.”

Father Parker slowly looks up at Wade when he hears him chuckle. “That’s to be expected. Vanessa did the first time she found out, and the next several times after, too.”

Peter slowly lowers his head into his hands and prays.

_Lord, what is even going on here? How can any of this be real?_

“I don’t understand,” Peter mumbles.

“Uh, it’s a bit of a long story, but you know how the Nazis would do medical experiments on people?”

Father Parker peeks up at Wade from between his fingers, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, well, I was one of them, and I guess you can say this was a side effect of their experimentation.”

“That you heal at rates that are almost miraculous?”

Wade nods, flexing his fingers and causing Father Parker to feel sick enough to look away again.

“I know you might not believe me, but-”

“From what I’ve seen and everything I already know about you and the war, it’s hard _not_ to believe, even as fantastical as it may sound.”

“Yeah… makes sense… hey, do you mind helping me out a bit more? My fingers are still not-”

“Please don’t talk about your fingers,” Father Parker rapidly says on an exhale, trying to choke back the unease he’s feeling. “I’ll help you in whatever way you need, just don’t… don’t mention the fingers until they’re healed.”

Father Parker feels a slight surge of annoyance at the way Wade chuckles at him. As Father Parker starts cleaning the rest of the dried blood off him, he thinks about Wade’s healing abilities. How he can heal so quickly from something potentially lethal. Yet, he’s covered in scars, clearly unable to heal to a perfect state. He thinks of the meaning of this, the terrible past, the war, Wade’s second job, and tries to make connections until he just has to ask.

“Is that why you… your other job… is that why you fight back? To… end those who have-”

“Ah, that. No. I mean, yes, but no. That’s how it started. During the Nuremberg Trials, I recognized one of the bastards- Sorry. Sorry, Father. I recognized one of _them_ as the man who caused… who created this mons- I…” Wade sighs heavily. “The point is… I saw him, but not a single face of any of his comrades that created this living hell for me. But I had friends in shady places, so not long after, I heard rumors that they were still looking for test subjects. Even after the war and the trials, they were still trying to harm people. I knew I couldn’t allow myself any rest. The ones in charge of the Nuremberg Trials were not doing their job to completion, so I felt that I had to do it myself. And it’s not just them, but anyone just as evil as them. They all need to be stopped.”

Father Parker only hums in response, unsure of how to respond, distracting himself with wringing out the towel.

“Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled… Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called children of God… It’s a bit of a stretch, but I’m trying to make sure no one endures what I’ve endured, to increase righteousness in the world, and in turn, hopefully add more peace, enough so that maybe I, too, can be called a child of God. I know you’ve told me time and time again that I am, and my sins are forgiven, but sometimes forgiving yourself is the hardest part.”

“But isn’t killing them just-” Father Parker closes his mouth quickly, realizing his question can easily be considered damning and offensive. When Wade quirks his brow at him, Peter shakes his head, going back to cleaning the blood off Wade’s forearm.

“You were about to ask what made my killing different from their evil, weren’t you?”

Father Parker looks at him apologetically as he nods slowly. “Yes, I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, you’re exactly right. And trust me, I’ve thought long and hard about it. I am fully aware that I’m just as bad. That my deeds are just as evil. A lot of them have killed, and that’s what I’m doing too, though I sometimes try to argue that my motives are pure enough. But at the end of the day, it’s still killing. And trust me, I don’t intend to go out and kill. I don’t want to be like those who created the monster that I am, but there are times I can’t help it. There are times where I can find no other way. No offense, Father, but prayer can only go so far when you’re staring down the barrel of a gun. Which is why I end up having to take lives, to save myself or others. It’s why I took another life just days ago, but I still know it’s murder, just like their sins. So, years ago, when I was more heavily involved in this business, I had to come up with a solution to that bit of hypocrisy. So as soon as I feel like my work is done, I’ll be sure to get rid of the last evil.”

“The last evil?”

Wade makes a quick yet subtle gesture towards himself.

“Surely, you don’t mean…”

Wade considers Father Parker for a moment before nodding slightly, making a slicing gesture across his throat. “If I was placed here to rid the world of evil, and I myself have sinned in the same manner, then I need to-”

With a pained gasp, Father Parker lunges forward, embracing Wade. He chokes back a sob as he starts to beg Wade to not do it, to reconsider, to learn to forgive himself so he can keep on living. He continues to cry, holding Wade tighter when he feels arms wrap around him gently.

After a few more moments full of soft tears and muffled begging, but no sound from Wade, Father Parker pulls back, looking Wade right in the eyes. Wade’s heart breaks at the sight of Father Parker in front of him, completely distraught at what Wade assumes is reasonable justice, and the triumph of good over evil, over him. He wants to take it back, to stop the tears. As he reaches up to wipe them away, hoping the pain will leave with it, Father Parker closes his eyes, choking back another sob.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean that…” Wade’s voice trails off. He can’t lie. He meant what he said; it’s been his plan for years. He simply did not think of how badly it might affect Peter to find out about it.

“Please don’t leave me,” Peter whispers, voice cracking behind the tears as he slowly opens his eyes again.

“I-I won’t. I promise. I won’t.”

Wade continues to wipe away tears, only pausing when Peter leans forward a bit more. Wade’s eyes drift down, and he feels a sudden urge, one so strong but terribly wrong. His guilt only increases when his pain over hurting Father Parker mixes with the desire to feel the softness of those lips quivering with sadness. He tears his gaze away, only to end up looking at Father Parker’s swollen, red eyes. Wade’s contrition is now overwhelming him. He opens his mouth to speak again, to attempt to use words to soothe Father Parker’s pain, but within seconds he finds himself unable to articulate anything at all.

Father Parker has effectively silenced Wade with a kiss.


	25. Dec 11, 1957

When Peter leans in to kiss him, it is the most delicate touch Wade has ever received from him. Their lips barely brush before Father Parker stills for a moment, just long enough to slide his hand to the side of Wade’s neck before pressing forward slightly. Wade finds himself unable to move, fear and surprise overtaking his body. He wants to move, to give into his guilty urges, and part of him worries that Father Parker will pull back before he can regain control of himself. However, Peter leans in further, turning the chaste but lingering kiss into something more. With the firm press of lips, Wade snaps out of his trepidation and finally, _finally_ kisses back.

Peter sighs against his mouth as Wade moves his hands to cradle Father Parker’s face. He is vaguely aware of the moisture from the tears, thumb moving slightly across his damp cheek. He wants to work his hands towards Peter’s hair, wanting to finally get his fingers in it, but Peter has only deepened the kiss for a brief moment, pulling back too soon.

Wade keeps his hold on Father Parker’s face as he stares at him, his glance moving from the red, teary eyes down to those lips. The lips he was once curious about, wanting to know if they felt as soft as they appeared, and now that he knows, he only wants to feel them again.

“Stay.”

Wade’s eyes dart back up to Father Parker’s. He nods subtly before wiping away at Father Parker’s tear-stained cheeks. His voice is barely heard by Peter as he breathes out, “I’ll stay.”

Peter nods, squeezing his shoulders slightly before he stands upright. Wade’s arms fall limply against his lap as he watches Father Parker take one of the bowls to the sink. Father Parker soon returns with a fresh bowl of water and another towel. He gently picks up one of Wade’s hands, a brief cringe at the sight of his fingers, before he sits down next to him and starts washing the blood off Wade’s hands.

Father Parker’s face is more flushed than Wade has ever seen it before, but he doesn’t dare comment, not when he feels like his own skin is on fire. His thoughts are lost on the sudden kiss when he hears Father Peter quietly say, “I know you said it’s a long story, but I’d like to hear more about… about the war… if you don’t mind.”

“You sure? It’s already late, and it’s not the kind of story one tells before bed.”

Father Parker nods. “I’d like to understand. To know more about you.”

“Okay… Well, it actually starts before the war broke out, back when I was diagnosed with cancer.”

Father Parker has already braced himself for talks about Nazis and painful experimentation, so he is shocked to hear the word ‘cancer’ and realizes that Wade’s trials and tribulations have been going on for longer than the war.

Wade explains that he struggled to find an effective cancer treatment, and it became quite aggressive, spreading faster than he could find doctors. Around the time he was giving up hope and struggling to come to terms with dying, war was beginning to break out. He had always wanted to become a soldier, to serve his country. He had started the process, spending a few years training and learning as many skills as he could, but then he had to walk away from that life when he got sick. Seeing all his friends and neighbors going off to fight while he stayed at home waiting for death only added to the pain.

Then while he was at another hospital, trying to find at least a bit of relief, the hospital was attacked. He was captured along with many other patients, hospital workers, and even his neighbors, the closest thing he had to parents at the time, who were checking in on him.

“I didn’t know they were captured too, not until much later when I found their bodies discarded behind the facility we were being kept in.”

Father Parker is still emotionally vulnerable from earlier, so Wade’s words hit him harder than he would like. He is certain that his attempts to subtly wipe away his tears are insufficient, but Wade never comments, only continues with his story.

Wade explains how, after they were captured, they were told they were being sent somewhere to receive better treatment. Part of him knew it was a lie, but part of him couldn’t help but believe, especially after he was told that they would make him fit enough to be a soldier.

“But it didn’t matter what I believed. I was too weak to fight back anyways.”

Wade was instead subjected to medical experiments, the pain far worse than his worst days living with cancer. Soon they all began to realize that he was able to endure the torment, recovering from their so-called ‘tests’ more rapidly each time.

“They called it ‘heilungsfaktor,’ or ‘healing factor,’ which basically means they had forged me to survive their torture.”

Wade was then shipped off to train and become a special type of soldier, one used in more dangerous, special tasks where they did not care about their safety or survival, as long as the job got done. Wade endured the training and completed a few missions that did not require him to kill, but as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he escaped. He left to find any remaining family or friends he had, but only managed to find one, an old friend that had also tried to become a soldier but quit when he got too scared. Otherwise, everyone that he knew was either already dead or reported missing. He continued to fight in the war, doing what he could to stop the Nazis while honing his skills.

“Because of that, and a few people me and my friend had met along the way… well… that’s how I got into my current business.”

Father Parker nods, no longer trying to clean or heal Wade, bloodied towels long forgotten on the table. “So now I know how you started this other job of yours, but I still… Did they do anything else to you? And what about the cancer? Are you in remission now? And-”

Wade raises a hand to silence Father Peter. “As far as I can tell, I can only heal quickly. So, between that and learning to be really good with certain types of weapons, nothing else was done to me. As for the cancer, I’m not in remission. I still have it, and it’s completely spread at this point. That’s what all the scars are from. Cancer. But my body keeps healing itself just enough to keep me in a stable state.”

“So… you’re constantly healing from cancer, but never fully healed from it?”

Wade nods fervently. “Exactly! I just heal fast enough to survive it, but there are some days where it hurts too much to function. That’s the thing. I heal quickly, but it does nothing for the pain. That’s actually why I came here. Between getting my fingers slashed trying to stop a few blades, getting shot so close to vital organs, plus the cold winter air, I was struggling to tend to myself or walk across town far enough to reach the church grounds. There was no way I could make it to my home without suffering further. Skin constriction when cold is bad enough, but when it’s around a wound?” Wade lets out a pained hiss. “Not fun.”

“Well, though it’s going to take me quite some time to process this, I’m still glad you came here instead of trying to tend to yourself out in the cold.”

Wade grins at him as Father Parker makes motions to clear the kitchen table of the mess they’ve made. As Father Parker is dumping everything into the sink to be dealt with in the morning when he feels more awake, he thinks about Wade’s healing factor. He then approaches and says, “What’s the worst thing you’ve healed from? Was this it?”

Wade thinks about it for a moment before saying, “Nah, I’ve been shot at plenty, but I think the time when I lost half a leg would be the absolute worst.”

“A… A LEG!?”

Wade nods before raising his hands, wiggling his fingers which were now bigger but still not the size they should be.

“Wait, wait, wait… that… the fingers, the leg, that’s more than just healing, though.”

“Yeah, I guess regeneration would be a more accurate term, but I don’t really get to talk about this much, so I never think about what to call it,” Wade shrugs as Peter finishes clearing up the mess. Wade starts to talk about other terrible incidents, that he’s healed or regenerated from, when Father Parker realizes a potential hole in Wade’s plans.

“Sorry to interrupt, but, in terms of your healing abilities… I mean, you’re surviving cancer because of it… Can you even die?”

“Yeah, I mean, I should be able to. I actually don’t know. I might be dying slowly without realizing it, but there have been times where I should have died from injuries, but I didn’t.”

“So, you can’t die.”

Wade shrugs non-committedly.

“So, in terms of your terrible plan, which you better nix, you can’t really… you wouldn’t have been able to anyways, right?”

“Ah, that! Right. Well, I don’t know. It’s the aim, but it would take a lot of planning and effort and resources. I might even have to get other people involved to make sure it was completed successfully.” Father Parker’s jaw drops and his eyes go wide. When he slowly brings his hands up to cover his mouth, Wade finally understands the reason for the questions. As he starts to laugh, Wade says, “Oh! Yeah… you probably didn’t need to go and kiss me to convince me to stay. I mean, just being allowed in your congregation is enough purpose for my life.”

The very last part is touching for Father Parker, but realizing he has kissed Wade in desperation when the situation was not as dire as it seemed, that is still overwhelmingly embarrassing. Father Parker grabs Wade by the arms, trying his best to yank him up out of the chair without causing him any pain due to his wounds. He then grabs Wade’s belongings from the table. Wade starts protesting as Peter shoves him towards the door, putting up just enough resistance to still be moved but not without Father Parker shoving more of himself against Wade in an attempt to budge him.

“So, you’re kicking me out?”

“YES!”

Wade laughs, easing up a bit more so Father Parker can finally shove him out of the door, tossing him his jacket for good measure. Wade slowly stops laughing and looks nervously at Peter.

“I don’t… I know that was a lot, but… I just-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not really mad. Yes, I have a lot to process now, but I’m not… I believe you, obviously, but I just need some time to digest it all.”

“Well, do you want me to-”

“Don’t worry about anything except resting up. It’s already late, so I fully expect you to sleep in and finish healing.”

“But what about-”

“And don’t worry about work, we can discuss that later… If you’d like, I can come check on you tomorrow afternoon.”

Wade grins at Father Parker. “Yeah. I’d like that… Good night.” Wade turns and jogs down the steps before waiting for a reply.

After bidding him a good night, Father Parker closes the door. He leans back against it as he gently touches his fingertips to his lips, smiling softly to himself.


	26. Dec 25, 1957 – Jan 31, 1958

Ever since Wade left on his last mission, Father Parker has been toying with the idea of doing another sermon centered around community. He just doesn’t know how in-depth he should go or when will be a good time to incorporate such topics into a homily or service. But now that Wade has returned and Father Parker knows the truth about him, his darkest thoughts and how alone he’s felt, he becomes more determined.

For the special Christmas service, Father Parker touches on the miraculous birth of Jesus and about God’s love, as he is expected to, but his central theme is community being reflective of God’s love.

“This is my commandment, that ye love one another as I have loved you… But how many of us can honestly say that we have loved one another, and not just a selected few? Who are we to judge who is worthy of love? Surely, if God loved us in the same manner, none would be found worthy.”

Father Parker pauses in the middle of his homily, seeing a few uneasy faces amongst the congregation.

“If a man says, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath _not_ seen? And this commandment have we from him, that he who loveth God, love his brother also.”

Father Parker has never seen so many concerned eyes upon him, and he knows his message is being heard. It isn’t the typical heart-warming message many have come to expect for Christmas service, especially with so many more people in attendance than usual, out of town families and townspeople who only attend on special occasions. Clergy try not to bring the heavier stuff on such days in the hopes they do not scare away those in the congregation. But Father Parker does not want full pews of empty hearts. He is giving out a call to action, a need for desperate change in their hearts and in the community. There is no way that can be accomplished if he only talks about a baby in a manger.

He quickly goes into the importance of community and the Laws of the Book that relate to it. He then points out how all tend to forget such edicts when they examine themselves before taking the Lord’s Supper. He never intended to do a condemning sermon on a night where they’re supposed to observe the Lord’s Supper, but he feels it is only fitting to remind the entire congregation that none are fit if they have caused divisions in the church.

He gives them all a chance to pray, to seek penance before partaking in communion, lest they be found guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. Typically, he sees only a few heads bow for a brief moment, perhaps just long enough to send a vague prayer in the hopes that it will be a catch-all for their most recent sins. But for once, every head is bowed, and several continue to pray for quite some time even after Father Parker has stopped.

Peter prays himself that his message will last longer than the Christmas holiday.

At the very end, Father Parker issues a challenge to the church, directly from scripture.

“Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.”

He feels accomplished when he notes how moved several people are, how social the congregation is afterwards, as some individuals wish Wade a blessed Christmas as they are leaving. But this is only a start.

He knows Wade promised to stay, that he won’t go through with that heart-wrenching plan of his to rid Europe of all that he believes to be evil, himself included, but Father Parker still feels a push to go beyond passive gestures and behind-the-scenes acts, to bolder moves. He’s spent the past year slowly trying to incorporate Wade back into his community, but now it is time for a bigger push. He wants to do more than just convince him to stay with words. Father Parker wants to make sure that Wade feels like there’s a purpose to his life, that he has a home, and that both are right here in this little town of his. He wants Wade to know that he does indeed belong.

At a clergy meeting the following day, they exchange knowledge of issues within the town, ranging from simple prayer requests to needs not being met. Father Parker makes a note on everything so he or one of the deacons can go around town and help in whatever way possible over the next few weeks. This is typical of their meetings, but the one thing Father Parker does differently is set aside all tasks that require manual labor in a separate list. And over the next week, he reaches out to each of those individuals and recommends they contact Wade for help. It takes a few tries and sometimes a house visit, but soon Father Parker starts seeing progress.

A few days into the new year, Wade is in the garden, trying to expand it a little though he refuses to tell Father Parker what he plans to plant in the additional rows. Wade has only marked off the new section and barely starts pulling up the lawn when an elderly member of the congregation walks up the path. Father Parker is on his way back to the church and stops to greet her and ask if there is anything she may need. He’s pleased to find out that she isn’t there to talk to him; she asks to speak to Mr. Wilson regarding a favor.

Father Parker, in his excitement, turns and shouts for Wade. He watches him drop his shovel and jog down the path, taking off his hat to greet the older woman. Peter then excuses himself so he could go back to work inside the church. After hearing someone’s confession and absolving them of their sins, Father Parker goes into his office to find Wade standing there, toying with his hat in his hands.

“Did you need something?”

“I know I was in the middle of working on the garden, but I was wondering if it would be okay to go help Mrs. Beaumont with her gutters. Seems the ice has caused some issues, and I’m afraid if it snows or sleets again, she’ll have to deal with leaks and water damage instead of just faulty drains.”

“That’s fine. Besides, the garden expansion was your idea… which you refuse to tell me about.” Pursing his lips in the process, Father Parker jokingly narrows his eyes at Wade, who starts looking around the office, clearly trying his hardest to avoid Peter’s glare. He’s still smirking all the same. “You seriously won’t tell me?”

Wade finally makes eye contact with him. “Not until it is done.”

Father Parker flops down into his chair with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve piqued my curiosity but now you won’t tell me. Why?”

Wade shakes his head quickly as he says, “Nope! Not until it’s done! I want it to be a surprise, so you’ll just have to wait.”

The corners of Peter’s mouth twitch against the smile that wants to appear. “Fine, fine, go help Mrs. Beaumont. Just make sure she doesn’t insist on helping and gets hurt in the process.”

“Oh, I know how to handle stubborn people like that,” Wade snarks with a pointed look at Father Parker.

“Just go!”

Wade nods and heads out, but soon peeks his head back into the office. “You know, it’s the strangest thing.”

“What is?”

“This is the third time someone has come to ask me to help with their home repairs in a single week.”

“Huh, you don’t say.”

“I don’t suppose you know anything about this?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not, but either way I wouldn’t say anything, ‘not until it is done.’”

Wade groans in annoyance and leaves the office with Father Parker struggling to suppress his laughter. He turns back to his desk and looks at his incomplete letter to the Archbishop, the one where he is to describe how he is helping the church to grow in God (and subsequently staying on the right path himself this time).

“I can’t believe it. The third time. Third. And he seems quite happy to help. Plus, Mrs. Beaumont didn’t seem to have any hesitance in asking him. I guess the townspeople are really learning to reach out and build community after all.”

For the rest of January, Father Parker hardly sees Wade in the church. Typically, when he does, it is only to take or bring back supplies. Peter knows this is due to Wade constantly helping around the town, especially with the big project to install better heaters in the older rooms of the school, which is taking a lot longer than expected. He is glad to see people reaching out to Wade and him working alongside other people within the community, especially since such a thought was unfathomable months ago.

He is exceptionally delighted, when he visits the school, to find Wade joking around with one of the men he is working with, making terrible puns about radiators and the winter chill. But a part of him is a little sad, finding himself missing Wade’s presence at times. He feels this way whenever he passes by the garden, seeing the start of the expansion that has remained incomplete this whole time.

On the last day in January, Father Peter leaves his rectory after a late brunch to find Wade in the garden, finally pulling up part of the lawn for the remainder of the expansion.

“Still not going to tell me what you’re planning to use that extra gardening space for?”

Wade looks up and grins broadly at Father Peter, who tries not to laugh at the dirt smeared across Wade’s temple that looks like a misplaced ash cross. “If we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”

Father Parker gapes at him. “Don’t you quote scripture at me to justify all of your secret little plans!”

Wade laughs loudly. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, then, since my answer is going to stay the same.”

Rolling his eyes as he approaches the garden, Father Parker pulls down the sleeve of his jacket over the heel of his hand to wipe away the dirt on Wade’s face. He freezes in place as Peter works to remove the dirt instead of just smear it around. When Father Parker finally stops and takes a step back, Wade mumbles a thanks before pulling up another patch of lawn. Peter watches as Wade works for a bit, until Wade looks up and quirks a brow at him.

“I missed seeing you around.” The words spill from Father Parker’s lips without any thought, a moment of warmth in the cold winter air.

Father Parker immediately backpedals, attempting to invalidate the sincerity of his confession, but he finds himself unable to negate even an ounce of feeling when the corner of Wade’s mouth twitches, a smile trying to peek through. His face is already tinted red from the chilled air, but Father Parker believes the flush increases in that moment.

“Well… would you like to see me? Over dinner?”

Father Parker hopes he has been outside long enough to excuse his own blushing as a result of the winter air. “I do believe I am free on Monday evening, if that works for you.”

Wade nods fervently as Father Parker quickly turns and heads towards the church, walking briskly as if it would leave his embarrassment behind. As he finishes working on the garden expansion, Wade grins to himself. Once done, he decides he’ll check out the market for other available seasonal vegetables. He knows he still has three more nights to go, but Wade can’t help feeling overly eager at the prospect of their next dinner together.


	27. Feb 10-12, 1958

The following Monday, Wade is helping to dust the crown molding of the church after someone points out the increase in cobwebs. Father Parker and Deacon Lasalle hastily walk through the sanctuary, discussing something in a tone that worries Wade.

Pausing, Father Parker glances over at Wade, who is perched atop a ladder with a rag in his hand. He then turns towards the deacon saying, “You go on ahead, we will meet you there.”

The deacon nods, eyeing Wade briefly before exiting the sanctuary.

Father Peter then approaches Wade, gesturing for him to come down.

“Is something the matter?”

Sighing, Father Parker nods solemnly. “It’s Mrs. Beaumont. It seems that she’s fallen quite ill. We are going there right now to check on her and pray over her. I think it would be best if you came along, too.”

“I’m not sure about that…”

Father Parker looks taken aback. “What do you mean? As close as you two have gotten over the past month, I believe she would be happy to see you there as well.”

Wade doesn’t know how to explain it to Father Peter. While he doesn’t mind going over to the Beaumont house when his services are requested, that is the only time he ever intends to visit. He can’t exactly say that he and Mrs. Beaumont are friends, not if the only reason she contacts him so frequently is because she finds him useful to help around her home, and Wade has a strong inclination that Father Parker is behind that.

“You know how the verse goes. ‘When two or more are gathered in my name…’ So, don’t you think that even more gathered in His name would be better?”

As soon as Wade sees those pleading eyes, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance. “Alright, I’ll go. Just let me grab my coat.”

As they walk towards Mrs. Beaumont’s home, Wade asks, “Are you sure she wants to see me?”

Father Peter quirks an eyebrow at him.

“I’m just worried that my presence will cause her more stress than good.”

“Oh, no, trust me. She actually asked for you.”

Wade halts to a stop in the middle of the road. Father Parker takes a few more steps before stopping and looking back at him.

“Wade, come on, she’s waiting.” Father Parker jerks his head towards the road, prompting Wade to start walking again, though the confusion remains on his face. “If you must know, you were not her first choice for who to ask to help around the house.”

Wade can’t explain why, but for some reason hearing that breaks his heart a little, though he knows that there would never have been a way for him to be her first choice since they'd never spoken more than ten words to each other.

“She first asked both of her sons, but they kept making excuses. So, when you agreed to help her and did so immediately, she was thrilled. And apparently, she finds you good company.” Father Parker then reaches over, grabbing Wade by the hand, and pulling him closer until their faces are inches apart. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Wade nods, and Peter gives him a stern look before licking his lips, causing Wade’s eyes to dart down, his breath hitching. “I’m serious. You cannot tell a soul. I’m breaking the Seal of the Confessional by doing this.”

“Oh! Oh, no, of course! I mean, I promise!”

Father Parker lets go of Wade’s hand and looks around, making a show of checking for any witnesses. It worries Wade suddenly, and just before he can tell Father Peter to stop, to not break this sacred Seal of the Confessional, Father Parker says, “Mrs. Beaumont thought she committed the sin of deception because she kept asking you over to help fix things around the house, when, in actuality, she just wanted to have coffee and dessert with you.”

Wade stares at Father Peter for a moment before finally saying, “You’re kidding, right?”

Laughing softly and shaking his head, Peter turns to continue their walk down the road.

Wade thinks about it for a moment before blurting out, “Oh my gracious, there was so much cake! And once, she even sent me home with cookies! How did I not notice?”

“Perhaps you were too focused on your work to notice her attempts at socializing with you?”

“Perhaps.” Wade starts walking quicker. “Let’s hurry. Don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Before jogging to catch up, Father Parker breathes out a laugh.

They end up spending a few hours keeping her company. When Father Parker starts to leave to begin attending to his other duties for the day, Wade pulls him aside and asks if they can reschedule their plans for later that evening since he wants to keep Mrs. Beaumont company for dinner. Father Parker agrees, pleased to finally see Wade fitting in with others in the community at last.

Two nights later, Father Parker finds himself heading towards Wade’s cabin for dinner. He sees smoke billowing from the chimney and picks up his pace, excited to warm up by the fireplace. When Wade opens the door, Father Parker immediately steps inside, taking off his outerwear and heading straight towards the fireplace.

“Bit cold, Father Parker?” Wade starts laughing before Peter can respond.

“Wade, it’s just us. Like I’ve told you before, you can just call me ‘Peter.’”

When Father Parker first told him this, Wade genuinely thought he meant to use ‘Peter’ in lieu of ‘Parker,’ while maintaining his title. However, after getting to know him, Wade now understands what he meant, but that doesn’t mean he still won’t keep using his more formal title just to annoy the priest.

“Yes, Father Peter, I’ll keep that in mind,” Wade says as seriously as he can manage. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Peter shake his head before he sighs.

However, Wade has a second reason for doing this. He’s rolled the name over his tongue a few times before, but aside from one slip-up, it has always felt too personal to say out loud to the man himself and without the occupation he represents. Without the title, Wade feels that any remaining barriers between them will be demolished, and he doesn’t trust himself to stay behind the line.

Father Parker continues to warm himself by the fire, making small talk with Wade about his time with Mrs. Beaumont these past few days. He keeps himself focused on getting warm, not looking around, until he hears a loud noise. He jerks his head to find Wade dragging the kitchen table towards the window.

“What in heaven's name are you doing?”

Wade grins and says, “I figure I’d give us a better view with our dinner. It’s snowing.”

Peter rushes over to help Wade push the table into place, glancing up to see soft white flakes falling gently down, almost faded in the sunset.

“Well, aren’t we lucky. This is probably the last snow of the season,” Father Parker murmurs as Wade goes back to the stove.

Peter decides he should probably help set the table before he resumes lounging in front of the fire. However, because of the window and the cabinet taking up two sides of the table, Peter ends up having to put both place settings on the same side of the table. He thinks about it for a moment and realizes this is actually a better fit for the two of them.

_Glancing up to see a snowy window will surely be easier on my heart than looking up to see Wade's face across from me._

Wade brings a large pot to the center of the table, and Peter hurries to help him finish placing the food. As Wade brings over a basket of bread, Father Parker takes the lid off the pot and breathes in deeply.

“So, what’s on the menu for tonight?”

“Carbonade flamande. It’s a Belgium stew. Think like beef bourguignon, but with beer instead of wine and a stronger set of seasonings.” Wade glances out the window. “Perfect night for some stew, don’t you think?”

Peter nods and sits down at the table next to Wade, folding his hands together to say a blessing. Once Wade finishes half-shouting his ‘Amen,’ he scoots closer to the table, knocking his knee against Father Parker’s leg. Peter had only been vaguely aware of their close proximity, the snow and the smell of carbonade flamande distracting his senses, but now he finds himself overly cautious of his own body. Not wanting to cross a line, but at the same time tempted to do so whenever he sneaks a glance to his left, he sees Wade move closer to him.

_I guess it doesn’t matter where we sit after all._

As Wade starts serving him, Peter says, “So this is a Belgian dish, and previously you made French and German food. I know you said you’ve been all over, but is there any place you’d consider home before coming here, or even before the war?”

Without hesitation, Wade says, “Belgium.”

“Really?”

Wade nods as he hands Peter the basket of bread. “My family was from the east side of Belgium, right on the border of the counties that were annexed from Germany after the Great War. German is my first language, but I had to learn French quickly because we moved just a few miles into the French side of Belgium.That’s probably why I sound more German than French, but I like to believe I’m decent enough to pull it off, not native but clearly not a tourist either. We kept moving around, so I also picked up some Dutch, but it was mainly food orders, asking for directions, or profanity.”

Peter snorts out a laugh and shakes his head at that last comment. “Of course it was.”

“Anyways!” Wade attempts to disrupt Father’s Parker’s usual lecture on Wade’s constant slip-ups of profanity and gestures for Peter to begin eating as he starts serving himself. “That would be my home in the sense of where I spent a good chunk of my formative years, but I actually don’t like to call it home. I kept returning to it after the war to make it my home, but it never felt right, not until I met Vanessa on my last attempt to find a place there. She was more French through-and-through. She convinced me to come to France with her, to make our own home instead of forcing that feeling to fit in. And now I’m here, in this shoebox of a town.”

When Wade sighs out heavily, Father Parker gives him a sympathetic look. “I understand that feeling of being stuck in a small town, I do, but I’m also really glad you’re here. I’m not sure I would have survived my first year here if it weren’t for you.”

Wade grins and goes back to his meal. As they slowly eat, Wade serving Father Parker more potatoes and bread without being asked, they quietly gossip about the on-goings of their town.

Somewhere along the way, he manages to get Father Parker to start monologuing about how one of the deacons, Duguay, has once again tried to undermine him. When Peter is deep into his story, Wade takes the opportunity to stare at him, appreciating the view but also raising concern for his own heart. Father Parker has turned in his seat a little as he rants, his leg bumping against Wade’s, but instead of shifting out of the way, he keeps his knee pressed up against Wade’s outer thigh.

 _Recently, there have been times that we were actually closer than this. He held my hand the other day and has been touching my arms and shoulders a lot. I know it’s been two months, but there’s no way I can ever forget that he_ kissed _me. Yet… his knee… I can barely feel it but for some reason it’s enough to make me feel like I’m on fire._

“Oh, gracious, I probably shouldn’t be talking like that,” Father Parker says, suddenly cutting the conversation short and turning back in his chair properly.

“Nonsense! You were clearly upset by what he’s done, and it is best to get those emotions out instead of keeping it all pent up.”

“I suppose you might be right, but… I don’t want you to think less of him or-”

Wade waves him off, spoon still in his hand, as he says, “Trust me, that won’t be an issue.”

He then bites his lower lip, fighting against the truth wanting to spill out, how he already thinks less of that deacon for the words he’s said and the rumors he’s spread in the past.

Father Parker tilts his head towards Wade, smiling softly at him. Lowering his left hand from the table, Peter reaches down until it is resting on Wade’s leg, just above his knee. “You’re such a kind soul, did you know that?”

“Oh… oh, I… uh… I wouldn’t say that.” Wade feels foolish at how he’s fumbling so terribly with his words. He takes a moment to work up the nerve, slowly placing his spoon on the table and finally reaching down to hesitantly lay his hand over Peter’s. “If anything, you’re probably just rubbing off on me.”

Wade feels himself starting to flush, his body demanding more contact, and quickly removes his hand. Peter follows suit, suddenly focused on finishing his meal.

After dinner, they spend another hour or so still talking at the table, before Father Parker finally announces that he should head home for the night. Before he leaves, Wade has the sudden urge to ask him to stay, grateful that his mouth doesn’t betray him at the last second. As usual, he realizes that he would have difficulty explaining himself and the reason for the offer.

As Father Parker gets bundled up again, Wade asks, “Would you like me to walk you home?”

“That’s hardly necessary. Besides, you still have a lot here to do,” Father Parker says, nodding towards the kitchen where there are dirty dishes stacked up from their meal together.

“Are you certain?” Wade asks, already pulling on a scarf from the hook by the door.

Father Parker reaches up, pulling Wade’s arm back as he says, “I’m certain. Just stay here and get some rest because I’m sure Mrs. Beaumont will put you back to work tomorrow morning since she asked you to stop by again.”

“Ah, right, having coffee and cakes _is_ a lot of work!” Wade jokes. He watches as Father Parker finishes getting dressed and steps out the door, still tempted to throw on a coat and follow him.

“Good night, Wade.”

Wade reflexively responds with, “Good night, Peter.”

Wade stands in his own doorway, shocked at the name that spilled from his lips unbidden yet not wholly wanting to reestablish that boundary he’s just knocked down. His terror over it is soon diluted, however, by the beaming smile of Father Parker.


	28. Mar 5, 1958

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [insert a sincere apology here]  
> [insert a rambling spiel about 2020 feeling like a decade-long hellscape]  
> Wash your hands, people!

Wade doesn’t have a set schedule for his work at the church. Typically, he just shows up and tries to find work to do, if he doesn’t already have an ongoing project or his own mental list of things that may need tending to, like the garden. But even without a set schedule, Wade still notices certain patterns with his work. For instance, Father Parker seems to like to work on homilies and sermons on Tuesdays or Wednesdays, meaning that Wade will most likely be asked to look over a line or so, if not help with the whole process, on those same days.

During a particularly slow week, Wade finds himself a bit bored at the church. There is no one in town that needs help with anything, and Wade can’t find a major task to complete, already having tended to the maintenance of the garden and a few other small chores. He isn’t quite ready to go home yet, feeling compelled to remain at the church just in case, but in case of _what_ is something Wade neither knows nor can explain.

Soon realizing he hasn’t seen Father Parker all day, Wade wanders around.

_But it’s Wednesday. He should have asked me to look over a line by now. Well, at this hour, possibly even the whole homily. Did he not need a second opinion today?_

_Wait… it’s not like my opinion matters. He’s the priest. He knows about these things better than me. But it did feel nice to be of help at times._

Father Parker has always been the one to approach Wade for his help with the sermons, but this time, Wade is going to actively seek out the priest to see if his assistance is needed. As he searches the church, he keeps fighting against pretentious thoughts of Father Parker needing his help. These thoughts soon become overwhelming, and he decides to give up and go home for the day. As he leaves, he glances at the clergy house.

“One more look, then I’ll go home.”

As Wade knocks on the door, it moves with his fist, slowly creaking open. He stares at the door, waiting for Father Parker to peek out from behind it like usual, until he realizes it opened on its own since it wasn’t shut all the way. Wade suddenly becomes worried that something terrible has happened, slipping a hand into his pocket to grip his knife.

With one arm he slowly pushes the door open enough to slip inside as he flips his army knife open with his other hand. His eyes dart around the room, looking for something amiss, but aside from a few books thrown haphazardly on the couch, Wade doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He slowly makes his way through the rectory until he finally reaches Father Parker’s bedroom. He quietly pushes the door open and finds Peter slumped in his chair, head and arms on his desk. Wade closes his knife, pocketing it as he rushes over, but then hears Father Parker’s sleep breathing right as he approaches. Wade watches him doze for a moment before suddenly recalling something Father Parker had said the last time Wade found his home unlocked.

_“There’s nothing of value to be stolen. If someone feels the need to steal from the priory, to take used clothes or a worn Bible, clearly they need it more than I do.”_

Wade is absolutely angry.

_This careless man! I knew he didn’t heed my words last time I brought it up, but I’m going to have even more words with him as soon as he wakes! He really needs to be more cautious about locking up his own home during the day. It’s not just about theft, but about safety… AND MY SANITY!_

Wade watches Father Parker sleep for a bit longer, finding his anger quickly subsiding. He starts to grin at the way he is sprawled out across his desk, surrounded by notes and sacred texts.

_He was probably just a few paragraphs away from asking me to read over a few lines, when exhaustion took over._

Wade’s eyes then move over Peter, watching his face. He’s seen Father Parker start to nod off before, perhaps barely asleep for a few seconds, but he’s never seen the priest actually asleep. His gaze soon works down towards Father Parker’s lips, and he finds himself reminiscing on their kiss once again. He thinks about it often, sometimes wishing it had happened under better circumstances; other times, happy that it happened at all. But he’s always wished it wasn’t singular, a one-off moment with no indication of ever happening again.

Wade gently brushes back a lock of Father Parker’s hair, where the curl has fallen forward across his temple. Once he does, he freezes in place, tempted to run his fingers through the rest of it. Then he gets an idea, one he knows is wrong, but he can’t help giving in to it.

Wade slowly moves closer, bending over towards Peter’s face. He knows that with Father Parker’s arm where it currently is, there is no chance he can reach his lips. But the temptation to kiss him just outside his mouth, on his cheek, is too much. Before Wade can stop himself, his lips are barely brushing against Father Parker’s cheek.

Wade stands upright instantly, taking a step back and breathing hard in his panic. He sees Father Parker stir a bit, a soft snore escaping his lips. Wade breathes out a laugh.

“How dare he disillusion me about holy men never snoring,” Wade jokes under his breath.

Father Parker’s arm then slides off the desk onto his lap, as he stirs a bit more. Wade watches him for a moment longer, seeing him quickly fall back to sleep. Without realizing what he is doing, Wade soon finds himself kneeling down closer to him than before. A brief thought to stop and back away passes through his mind but is pushed aside as he glances down at Father Parker’s lips. These are the lips that encourage a community instead of condemning it. These are the lips that make him feel whole for once, and cared for, and-

_Loved?_

With that final thought, Wade knows he can’t fight against his urges anymore. His heart is already racing when he leans forward, not stopping until his lips press gently against Father Parker’s. Wade lingers there for a moment before slowly pulling back. He glances back down towards Peter’s lips, thinking about their softness, but realizing they cannot compare to the softness of the heart behind them.

Wade cautiously reaches up, gently brushing back Father Parker’s hair, letting his fingertips play in the fringe as he whispers so softly that he can barely hear it himself. “I think I may love you… But it’s more than philia… I know I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.”

Wade stands, looking at Father Parker one last time before he decides to leave. As he turns to do so, he stumbles on a book that Peter has left on the ground, his boots making entirely too much noise against the wooden floor as he struggles to keep himself upright.

“Wh-what? Who? …Wade!?”

Wade spins around and sees Father Parker staring at him blearily, smacking his lips slightly as he tries to wake up.

“What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just coming in to see why you left your door wide open.”

“Wide- It wasn’t _wide open_.”

“But it was. I had to chase out a fox that was trying to nest in your living room.”

Father Parker yawns before glaring at Wade, shaking his head. “I highly doubt any wildlife entered my home.”

“How would you know? You were _asleep_! With your front door _open_!”

Father Parker waves him off before looking back at his desk, clearly struggling to determine where he left off on his work.

“What are you doing anyways? And what’s with the midday nap?”

“I’ve gotten behind on my correspondence with the clergy from… from my past… I spent all night writing letters. I only managed a few hours of sleep before I had to…” Father Parker tries to continue to speak through his yawn, but upon seeing Wade’s confused face, he repeats himself. “Before I had to go to the PTT.”

“So you’re working on a few hours of sleep?”

Father Parker nods as he pulls one of the books closer, crinkling a piece of paper in the process.

Wade walks over, grabbing Peter by his upper arm, and pulling him up from his chair in one swift movement. He manages to drag him halfway across the room before Father Parker asks, “What’s going on?”

“You’re getting some sleep before you do anything else.”

“But I’m making zero progress on the-”

“And you’ll continue to make zero progress if you work while exhausted.” Wade shoves at Father Parker’s shoulders gently, causing him to fall back into a sitting position on the bed.

Father Parker is already lifting his feet and turning to lay down when he says, “I think I’ll be fine.”

Wade can’t help the laughter that escapes him. “It looks like your body says otherwise.”

Peter, already curled up in bed and clutching his pillow, simply nods. Wade waits a moment before slipping out of the rectory, making a mental note to return in a few hours to check on Father Parker.

On his way home, he hears a strange sound coming from the start of the path towards the cabin. He peers through the treetops until he spots a bird peeking its head out of the nest he shoved up there last fall after the big storm. Grinning to himself, he watches as the bird shoves a few more twigs into the side of the nest before flying off again.

“Oh, is my free home for you not good enough?”

The bird soon returns, this time with a twig and a scrap piece of twine. Wade watches the bird fix the nest when a terrible thought hits him. He worries for a moment that Father Parker may not have been asleep the whole time, that he may have felt the kiss and now knows about Wade’s feelings. The bird leaves, and Wade takes it as his cue to return to his own home to deal with all these thoughts about Peter knowing his secrets. However, he only makes it to his door when he wonders…

_Would it really be so bad if he does know?_


	29. Mar 19, 1958

One morning, Father Parker asks Wade to stop by the rectory later to look over a homily for him. With a bit of hesitation, Wade admits that he has to postpone their meeting since he is having lunch and spending time with a few members of the congregation. Father Parker is excited for him, glad to see Wade making friends without it being a set-up under the guise of manual labor. However, Wade is clearly nervous about the lunch plans since it will be the first time in several years that he will be visiting friends without work being involved.

“But you’ve spent time with me without any work involved,” Father Parker offers as an attempt to rationalize Wade’s fears.

“It’s not the same.”

“Oh?”

Wade shakes his head. “I feel safe with you… comfortable. And this group… I can barely call these people friends… I don’t know, it’s like I’m hesitant or something. Like a part of me is stressed over their intentions.”

“I’m certain they only intend on being your friend. I know you cannot stop the stress immediately, but do try to meet up with them and see how you feel then.”

Wade nods and leaves, saying he will be back around three.

When Wade shows up to Peter’s office over two hours earlier than expected, Father Parker is concerned that something terrible has happened, or at the very least that Wade suddenly left the luncheon early. Father Parker immediately stands from his desk with a flurry of worried questions.

“Wait, what? Why are you asking? Is something supposed to be wrong?” Wade starts to become just as concerned as Father Parker, freezing in the doorway with his hands held tentatively up in the air.

“No, it’s just that… you’re early, so I thought-”

“Oh! No. They all went out shopping and such, and I only left because they all ended up at the barbershop,” Wade says, gesturing up towards his head. “I could have kept chatting with them, but it felt weird being in a shop I have no use for.”

Father Parker can’t help his loud laugh. “I suppose that makes sense. Otherwise, how was it?”

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad. Hey, I…” Wade trails off as he steps further into the office. “I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done to help me feel like I actually belong here. I know you’ve been doing little things here and there to accomplish that for quite some time. You didn’t need to get involved with my problems, but you still did, and now things are looking up. So… thank you.”

“Bear ye one another’s burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ.”

“Valid point, but it was risky for you. I was originally worried that you were setting yourself up for ruin by associating with me.”

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Wade notices Father Parker trying to suppress a grin and struggles to do the same himself. Instead he quirks a brow and says, “Someone’s in the middle of working on a sermon.”

“That I was.”

“Yeah, so quit deflecting my gratitude with scripture.”

Father Parker snorts out a laugh. “Sorry about that, but where is all this coming from?”

Wade shrugs. “I’ve just struggled to find my place in the world, then you come along and… everything’s fine.”

Father Parker isn’t sure what to say to that; he feels a bit uneasy that Wade is attributing all of the community improvement to him. But he begins to wonder about why Wade endured it for so long, eventually blurting out, “Why did you stay here if you didn’t feel like you belonged?”

Wade gives him a pointed look.

“I’m sorry. That sounded awful. I just… I don’t know why you would put up with it. I know you mentioned something about your house, but it doesn’t seem worth it, no offense… Could you explain?”

Wade then peeks out into the hall before saying, “Yeah, I don’t mind, but, uh… I don’t want to be overheard. It’s not a topic for all ears.”

“Well, there’s no one else here today.”

Wade’s immediate thought to being alone in the church with Father Parker does not fit well with their current conversation. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to fight past the images in his mind and formulate a sensible response for Peter.

However, Father Parker sees the look on Wade’s face and assumes he’s still torn about discussing the matter in church. He starts packing up his books and papers. “That’s fine. We can head to the rectory now since I left the homily there.”

They walk in silence to the clergy house, which unnerves Peter just enough to get him to speak up, telling Wade he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.

Wade then explains that he really doesn’t mind before lowering his voice, saying that it relates to both the old priest and ‘the experiments.’

Peter’s eyes go wide as he nods fervently, quickly glancing around for others, suddenly worried about the severity of the conversation.

Father Parker makes a cup of coffee for Wade as he begins to explain why he stayed.

“Well, I first moved into a small cabin in the hills on the other side of town. You should have seen it, the land just outside was beautiful… still is, but you can hardly call that structure a cabin anymore."

Peter then learns that Wade stayed in the cabin as much as possible, only coming down once in a while to shop because people didn’t take too kindly to his scars at times. Father Parker gives him a sympathetic look, part of him wanting to negate that comment, but the other part fully remembers how taken aback he was when he first spotted Wade.

_Sometimes we cannot help our human reactions, no matter how awful and wrong we know they are._

“Not long after that was all the issues I’ve told you about. How I came home bloodied a few times, the church finding out about Vanessa and the baby, and everything else that made certain men of the clergy look at me with… a less… a less approving light, to put it kindly.”

Father Parker then sets two mugs down on the table, taking a seat catty-corner to Wade. He doesn’t realize he is scowling at the thought of the judgmental clergy until Wade reaches over, gently resting his hand on Father Parker’s arm before removing it promptly.

“I’m really glad you weren’t ready to cast the first stone when you met me. It was a bit… intimidating… how welcoming you were, but I’d much rather have that then add another person to my list of people who hate just the concept of me.”

Peter feels his scowl soften. “So, is that when you moved in with… what was her name again? Alice? Alexandre? Alayna? A-”

“Blind Al.”

“Just ‘Al’ and not-”

Wade shrugs. “Don’t know if it stood for anything, we never really talked about names.”

Father Parker debates the honesty of that comment before frowning to himself. He doesn’t want to press the issue but he had hoped for another clue so he could find her grave.

“But yeah, Blind Al took me in. Made me help her around the house, but she kept me company. Although, she was not hesitant to swing her cane at people that displeased her. Usually me.”

Peter chuckles into his coffee cup.

“She never seemed to mind that I couldn’t hold down a ‘real job,’ not when I was being contracted so much with my other job so soon after the war ended. She didn’t seem to mind all the blood either, as long as I cleaned up after myself. But it’s not like she could tell, because, you know, being blind and all. But her sense of smell was incredible, so…”

“So I’m guessing she didn’t know about the healing or regeneration or whatever you call it?”

Wade shook his head. “Oh, she knew. She just couldn’t _see_ it, but I’d trick her into touching the regenerating parts.”

Father Parker sputtered just as he was taking another sip of coffee. “Wade, that’s horrible!”

“Yeah, it was,” Wade said gleefully, not an ounce of remorse present. “I struggled to tell her the truth one day when she cut me off with something like, ‘It was those Nazi bastards, wasn’t it?’ and then explained that she used to be able to see, but now she was left in the dark with just really good hearing and smelling because they did a few experiments on her too. So, she understood. She actually saw some crazier things than me before she couldn’t see at all. So she wasn’t bothered by me, my past, Vanessa, anything!”

“Sounds like she was a kindred spirit in a town full of judgment.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s exactly it! Even when the town started shunning her, she just scoffed and moved on with her life. I tried to move out and cut ties with her, but she said I was overreacting and needed to stay to reach the stuff in the cabinets.”

Father Parker chuckles at the thought of bribing Wade to stay solely based on his height advantage.

“Turns out she kept a lot of the shunning incidents to herself. I didn’t even know the half of it until she passed away and the church refused to bury her.”

Peter feels his stomach bottom out at the words. He’s seen the terrible things the church can do when one doesn’t fall exactly in line with their wishes. But he never assumed that the reason he couldn’t find her grave was because there wasn’t one, not one associated with the church in any way. He suddenly becomes worried that she might have even been denied Last Rites, but he refuses to ask, afraid that Wade may confirm his suspicions.

“But don’t you worry about her. She told me a few times that she wanted to remain in the mountains even after death, so I buried her myself. And now I’m looking after her home since she looked after me for so long. She sacrificed so much for me, even after death, so just making sure her cabin wasn’t torn down like my original home was, well, that’s barely scratching the surface of paying her back.”

There is a long moment of silence, only filled by the sounds of sipping coffee and cups being set down on the table a bit too roughly. Eventually, Father Parker says, “What about your other friend? I thought you once mentioned someone else and a weapons shipment, though that probably wasn’t-”

“No, that was actually bad,” Wade laughed. “He’s not from around here, but he did visit on rare occasions, especially after Al passed. But he can have quite a mouth on him without realizing.”

Wade downs the rest of his coffee before scooting closer to the table. He looks around as if someone else might be in the room, listening in. But between that and Wade’s quieter tone, Father Parker really does feel like he is about to hear a scandalous secret.

“So, when he was here, he broke his glasses. It was just the frames, but I don’t have tools that small, so we went to see… I don’t remember his name… the guy who sits nearest to the altar during service. He mends watches and jewelry sometimes and-”

“I know the one. Mr. Fabron.”

“Right. Him. We went to see Mr. Fabron to get the frames fixed and while we waited, we just made small talk. Between our typical banter and my friend just slipping up and talking about the weapons shipment he was sending in for my next mission, well… that’s how some people in this town came to believe that I actually killed Vanessa.”

Father Parker covers his face with his spare hand, sighing deeply. “Did he really… And you’re still friends with him?”

Peter peeks between his fingers to see Wade shrugging at him. “He’s a good guy and he has all sorts of connections. If you’re ever in trouble, he’ll definitely lift a finger or two to help you out, as long as he doesn’t feel like his life is at risk.”

Father Parker gives him a skeptical look.

“I’m serious! That’s exactly what he said when I told him about you. Well, that and as long as you don’t make him attend church.”

“Wait, you told him about me? But why?”

Wade toys with his mug for a bit before responding. “I don’t know. He was just asking about my life, what I’ve been up to, why I’m refusing missions sometimes, that kind of stuff. And it was part of the answer.”

_He’s… he’s refusing missions… so is he killing less now? I know he is trying to cut back, to only disarm but not injure or kill… but he’s not taking as many missions these days? Does this mean-_

Wade then gives him a wicked grin, and Father Parker’s brief contented moment passes. “He says you sound like a good person but also like an idiot.”

Father Parker sets his mug down roughly on the table, his jaw dropping. He splutters for a few seconds before saying, “I was about to be upset with him, but I’m pretty sure you had something to do with that comment!”

Wade gapes at him before shrugging and smiling. “Yeah, that’s exactly why he said it. ‘That Father Parker sounds like an idiot, if he’s hanging around you so much.’”

Peter groans in annoyance before reaching over, placing a hand atop Wade’s. “If he’s saying that solely because we are friends, then I don’t mind being called an idiot.” He squeezes Wade’s hand before standing up, collecting their mugs. “So, since you’re here, how about we work on that homily together?”

As Father Parker excuses himself to the bedroom, Wade looks down at his hand, sad at the loss of contact.

_Never thought I’d be welcomed like this. And that the person responsible would have such a firm hold on my heart._


	30. Apr 12, 1958

Wade yanks his sleeve down to cover his hand before wiping at the sweat threatening to drip into his eyes. As he mumbles profanities under his breath, he goes back to tilling the new expansion to the garden. He barely makes any progress before he hears the window open and the shutter slam against the wall of the rectory.

“Wade? What are you wearing?” Peter asks, sticking the top half of his body out the window.

Wade looks down at himself before tugging at his thick Henley shirt and striking an unflattering pose. “Oh, this? It’s only the latest fashion for those who keep putting off laundry. I call it Death from Heatstroke.”

“You have absolutely no short sleeves or anything like that?”

Wade shakes his head. “None that don’t look like they’ve sprouted up from the garden at least.”

“Do you- I mean, if you want, you could borrow one of my-”

Holding up a hand, Wade cuts Peter off with a, “Thanks but I’d rather not owe you a new clerical shirt because I’d probably rip it just trying to put it on nonetheless gardening in it.” He goes back to tilling the garden as he rambles about the cost of ‘priestly attire.’

Peter slowly steps back until he is no longer hanging out the window. He watches Wade work for a minute, shaking his head slowly. He knows Wade couldn’t have been in the garden for more than twenty minutes, but his shirt is already starting to stick and sag from all the sweat. Typically, Father Parker will find excuses to be outside when spring is at its peak, but not today. For the past couple of days, the town has been experiencing an unusual heat wave, and thanks to the recent storms at night, the air is much more stagnant and humid than what Father Parker would have preferred.

The heat from the window starts to get to Father Parker, so he closes it and decides to finish getting ready for work. As he grabs his robes, he pauses, glancing outside at the blaring sun and deciding it is too hot to go out.

_If anyone needs me, then they can just find me at home, but I doubt anyone would bother in this heat unless it was a real emergency._

He drops the robes unceremoniously onto his bed before putting on his collarino shirt. He hesitates before slipping in the white collar insert, just in case someone does pay a visit.

Father Parker plans to work on his sermon for the next day, having had a sudden tug on his heart for a specific new topic on tolerance. However, he is struggling to piece it together. After half an hour of no progress, he looks out the window of his rectory, seeing how it looks to be a perfect day for wandering the church grounds in meditation, but knowing better.

_It’s as deceptive as the devil himself. There’s no need to work up a sweat, so I’ll just stay right here._

Before he can return to his sermon, there is a loud and persistent knock on the door. The individual keeps knocking until Father Parker scurries his way over and opens it as Wade’s fist falters mid-knock.

“Father Peter! You’ve got to come see this!”

Before Father Parker can respond, Wade is already racing down the stairs and jogging towards the garden. Peter only manages to make it to the top step by the time Wade spins around and shouts, “C’mon, now! Don’t be late to your own surprise!”

Father Parker perks up and starts walking quicker, soon jogging in his attempts to catch up with Wade. Wade rushes to the side of the garden that he expanded. He kneels down in the dirt and looks over at Father Parker, waiting for him to catch up. Before Father Parker can ask what is going on, he sees Wade point to the top of one of the plants.

“Is that a bud?” Father Parker asks, unsure of which vegetable has purple blooms.

Wade nods excitedly. “Yes! Several in fact!” He gently points out each bud he can see, a few close to blooming already.

“Well, what are they?”

Wade gave Father Parker a defeated look. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what flowers look like.”

“I just thought-”

“Really now!” Wade groans and stands up, reaching down to wipe away the dirt from his knee and doing an insufficient job of it. “I remembered you mentioning flowers when you first assigned me to fix up the garden, and I had thought it would be good to plant some this year since last year I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed to put flowers in a community church garden, but then-”

“It’s fantastic!” Father Parker interjects, reaching over and gently holding Wade by the hand, his fingers barely wrapping around Wade’s. Father Parker then lets his hand slide away and quickly squats down to look at the flower buds more closely. “I just didn’t know what _kind_ of plants they were, that’s all.”

Wade starts rambling off the different types of flowers he planted, pointing to each one.

Father Parker drags a fingertip across one that is in the process of blooming before looking up at Wade. “This is really amazing. Thank you.”

Wade smiles at Father Parker before tearing his eyes away, suddenly interested in surveying the rest of the garden.

“So, what do you intend to do today?”

Wade explains that between the recent rain and the current heat, it is the perfect time to finish planting the rest of the crops, cull the weaker sprouts, and a whole slew of other gardening tasks that Father Parker only barely understands.

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Oh, it will be, but it will be worth it. Should have twice as much to harvest this year.”

“And flowers.”

“And flowers!”

Father Parker feels himself start to flush when he realizes he has been staring at Wade for far too long with a silly grin. “Right… so… I’ll let you get back to work. But if you need a break or would like a cold drink, you know where to find me,” Father Parker says, jerking his head slightly towards the rectory.

“Will do!”

Father Parker heads back inside, fanning himself slightly against the heat and humidity. Once back at his desk, Father Parker is able to make significant progress on his sermon. He has a very poignant homily, a spiritual topic backed by plenty of scripture, and a challenge for the congregation. However, he is still struggling with two parts. One is a final sentence to round things out, and the other is a good transitional sentence between the homily and his main topic. Father Parker toys with various ways to transition the work for a few minutes before Wade knocks on the door again.

Peter opens the door and leads Wade into the kitchen, gesturing to a chair. Wade politely refuses, saying he doesn’t intend to stay long. As Father Parker pours a glass of water for Wade, he keeps glancing back at him, a bit taken back by the amount of dirt and sweat on him. As Wade drinks, Father Parker stares at him more intently than in the garden. He examines how much of Wade’s shirt is soaked and clinging to him, almost all the way down to his waist, before watching the way his Adam’s apple moves while he drinks. Father Parker suppresses his own grin when he catches Wade closing his eyes as he tilts his head back slowly. Wade gulps down most of the glass before wiping roughly at his mouth with his arm.

“So,” Wade gasps a little, trying to catch his breath after drinking too quickly. “What priestly duties must you attend to today?”

Father Parker resists rolling his eyes at the tone Wade is using. “I’m just finishing up my sermon for tomorrow.”

“You haven’t finished that yet!?” Wade asks incredulously.

“No, I just… I had a change of heart on the topic. Want to focus more on tolerance while abiding by faith.”

Wade finishes his drink before replying. “Making any progress?”

“Actually, I’m almost done. Just need a good transition that won’t lose the crowd.”

“Let me see what you got.”

Father Parker retrieves his sermon for Wade, watching him as he reads over it. They talk about the transition for a while until Wade’s suggestions slowly turn into terrible jokes and puns. Father Parker tells him he can’t joke around like that, but Wade keeps cracking jokes until Peter finally laughs loudly, admitting that the last one is pretty funny.

Wade grins at him, apparently pleased that he’s managed to make the priest laugh, before excusing himself back to the garden. As he leaves the rectory, a deacon arrives to hand Father Parker some letters. Wade greets Lasalle cheerfully and exchanges worn phrases about the weather before wandering off.

Father Parker on the other hand takes the letters with little words, always finding it hard to feel good enough for pleasantries when he has little reminders such as these that his superiors are always expecting him to fail. He turns the envelopes over in his hands a few times before determining that a break from the sermon is in order and begins working on replying to the letters.

He starts the last reply when another knock comes. As he passes by his window, he can see no one in the garden and so assumes it is Wade needing another break.

“Mr. Wilson, do come… in…” Father Parker feels himself struggle to finish his sentence when he opens the door and sees the state Wade is in.

Wade gives him a half smile as he slides past Father Parker into the clergy house. Father Parker just stares at him, watching as he enters the kitchen. He has often had intrusive thoughts about what Wade would look like with no shirt on in various contexts. But for him to actually see it in his own home when he is not prepared and especially without any blood this time, Father Parker feels breathless and a bit afraid.

_Lord, please steady me._

Father Parker closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves and suppress the lustful thoughts attempting to creep in. He enters the kitchen, trying and failing to avoid glancing at Wade as he pours himself another glass of water. As Wade starts to drink, Father Parker finds that tearing his eyes away is an impossible task.

He notices how the sunlight coming in through the kitchen window seems to illuminate his skin, the sweat almost glistening as it continues to slowly accumulate and drip down to his pants, low on his hips. He can see the muscles in his neck and chest move with each deep gulp, with each tired breath. He watches as the condensation from the glass drips onto his body, trickling down, down, down, reaching his navel and towards-

“I hate to ask this, but do you have any food? Don’t really feel like trudging all the way home.”

Father Parker snaps his head up and stares at Wade, a bit frazzled but mostly terrified that he was caught staring.

Wade’s slight grins fades as he says, “Uh… if not, that’s okay. I-”

“No! Sorry! Food, yes!”

Wade quirks his brow at him. “Please tell me your sermon is more articulate than that.”

Father Parker slumps, sighing heavily before sassing back with, “Do you want food or not?”

He is already walking towards the cabinet when Wade murmurs, “Yes, sir.”

Father Parker pulls out a few items from the fridge before going to turn on the stove. Wade rushes up and stops him, standing far too close.

“Don’t need to reheat anything. It’s too hot anyways. I’d rather eat it cold.”

Father Parker simply nods in compliance, not able to speak his reply when he is too distracted by Wade’s current state of undress and scent.

They sit at the kitchen table as Wade eats, Father Parker eventually joining him at Wade’s insistence. Ultimately, Peter is grateful to be focused on his food, since prior to that he struggled with keeping his eyes from places where his heart wants to sin.

Once the meal is over and Wade goes back to overhauling the garden, Father Parker attempts to go back to work but cannot seem to focus yet again. It takes him nearly five minutes to even figure out what he was doing prior. Likewise, his last letter is supposed to be the shortest, just a few quick sentences, but it takes him entirely too long to even start the first sentence. Then, upon realizing he has two mistakes within that sentence, Father Parker gives up.

_I can’t do it. I can’t function when he’s occupying so much of my mind! It’s not supposed to be like this!_

Father Parker lays his head down on his desk and groans loudly. He does it twice more but louder to amuse himself when he realizes how the sound reverberates off the walls of the sparse room. But the last groan, he ends with a sigh. Resigning himself, he stands up and heads towards the window that faces the garden. He looks outside, watching Wade dig a narrow trench in the dirt.

Father Parker is transfixed. The way Wade bends over with each pass of the shovel, the way his arms flex each time he pushes into the earth, how the muscles in his back move as he stands and tosses the soil aside; it’s all too much for Father Parker.

With a shaking hand, he reaches up and touches his collar, just a fabric insert today. He knows he shouldn’t be looking at Wade the way he is, but his body seems to have a different opinion. He feels the last of his self-control slipping as Wade bends down to pick up his shirt, wiping away at the sweat on his face. Father Peter turns from the window and jerks his hand away from his collar, inadvertently pulling out the insert part of the way. He glances back over at Wade for a moment before yanking out the rest of the insert and tossing it aside. There’s a small voice in his head telling him he’s not a priest, not now at least, not for the next few minutes.

Father Parker barely spares a glance to ensure that his curtains are closed just enough, that he’s well hidden, before he starts unbuckling his belt. He makes quick work of his pants, undoing them just enough to be able to reach into his underwear comfortably. He promptly wraps a hand around his erection, already beginning to leak, when Wade suddenly stands upright and turns towards the rectory.

Father Parker freezes, but keeps his hand in place. Wade simply hops over two rows in the garden before he starts working on installing a short vegetable trellis. As he hunches over the trellis, hammering the supporting stakes into the ground, Father Parker begins moving his hand.

He slowly rubs the entirety of his shaft over and over, sometimes working a few fingertips over the head, teasing himself. He can hear his own panting breath as he starts to pick up speed.

Eventually, Wade turns and works on another part of the garden. It takes a moment for Father Parker to realize that he is cleaning up. Fearing that Wade is now done with the garden for the day, and might soon be knocking on his door one last time, Father Parker has a brief thought to stop before deciding that he’d rather just rush through and finish as quickly as possible.

He spins around until his back is up against the wall right by the window, the curtain swaying slightly with his sudden movement. He hastily shoves his pants down to mid-thigh and resumes pleasuring himself. He moves his hand as fast as he is able while leaning his head back against the wall, eyes screwed shut as he imagines Wade just as sweaty but in a different context. Soon, Peter feels himself teetering on the edge and bites his bottom lip to try to suppress his moans. With a few more firm tugs he finally climaxes, clawing at the wall behind him with his other hand. He strains against the sounds of gasping and whining his body is attempting to produce, suddenly aware of how loud his breathing is.

As he catches his breath, Father Parker slips from post-orgasmal bliss straight into religious guilt, suddenly ashamed of what he has done. He mentally berates himself as he goes to clean up and redress.

Once done, Father Parker takes a moment to sit on the edge of his bed, contemplating what this means, if it means anything at all. He ultimately veers from thoughts of failing in his faith and is lost in pleasant thoughts about Wade, suddenly remembering all the terrible jokes Wade had said earlier that day. When Father Parker recalls the one particular joke that made him laugh the hardest, he goes to his desk and adds it to his sermon, liking the way it fits and adding a bit of humor to such a condemning sermon.

He then scribbles out the final statement in his sermon, hesitating to put it away and considering it complete.

_“And as always, abide by the faith.”_

_“…Abide by faith.”_

_What right do I have to tell the congregation that, when I myself have been struggling with it?_


	31. Apr 13, 1958

Wade is vibrating with excitement the next day during the sermon. He ends up missing part of it when he hears Father Parker use one of his jokes, suddenly becoming hyper-fixated on it and a bit pleased with himself.

After the service, Wade starts to head towards the front of the church, waving shyly at a few of the townsfolks as he passes. But as he approaches the altar, he sees Father Parker standing to the side, talking to a few men Wade has never seen before. Judging by their garb, Wade knows they are clergy but are higher ranking than Father Parker and should not be here.

_Unless… unless they’re doing that same nonsense where they show up unannounced…_

As if reading his mind, the cardinal turns around and Wade suddenly feels sick to his stomach.

_It’s the same one that gave Peter all that grief months ago. Did he really-_

Just then, Father Parker glances over and sees Wade. His eyes go wide momentarily before he subtly shakes his head. Wade takes a few steps back, nodding once in response. He turns and heads for the front door, only looking back once to see the clergy leading Father Parker out of the sanctuary and towards the back offices of the church.

Wade putters around the church grounds and the gardens for a moment. As he steps towards the back of the church grounds, he notices two cars. They are a sleeker design than any other vehicles in the village, which is all the indication he needs to know that these high-ranking clergy most likely did show up unannounced if they hid their cars like this. Wade paces around them, trying to determine just how many men of the cloth are here to give Peter hell. He realizes he doesn’t actually want to know the answer before heading back to the garden in an attempt to find work that needs to be done. He does not usually do work on Sundays, but he wants to find a reason to just be near Father Parker and figure out what the clergy want and if Peter is okay.

After awkwardly pacing the garden and only removing two weeds, Wade decides that being seen waiting for Father Parker may not look good for him, especially if Cardinal Marc is still holding grudges against Peter.

Wade goes home, walking slowly as he struggles to think about what he could do to help Father Parker. He pauses by the path to his home when he hears loud chirping from close by. He grins slightly, looking at the birds who have now made their home in the fallen nest he found many months ago. He watches them, considering his options.

_Perhaps I could make another dinner… that did seem to help last time. But are the clergy staying that long? Will they even be here for dinner?_

He watches the tiny birds cry out for food for a little while longer before he shakes his head, deciding to head into his home.

He tries to find ways to occupy himself and stop thinking about the cardinal, but the thoughts keep creeping in, filling him with fear for Father Parker and doubts about his ability to do any good for him.

After starting and stopping more tasks than he can count, Wade looks towards the cabinet on the edge of the kitchen, knowing what he keeps on the bottom shelf. He is not much of a drinker anymore, only the random small glass during special occasions, so right now he only has wine and sherry for cooking. But he’s feeling a sudden itch to grab a glass, much like he’s done a few times these past few years. Twice after a particularly bad mission and once after he thought Peter wanted nothing to do with him. He picks up a bottle, eyeing it as he debates with himself.

_This is nothing. I’m just being paranoid. I told Al I’d stop solving problems while inebriated, and this isn’t even a problem. Well, it might be, but I don’t know that. I’m just overreacting. Just need to wait til I hear from Father Parker and-_

Wade sets the bottle down roughly on the counter when he hears a knock on the door. He looks towards the window nearest the door and sees that it’s already dark out.

_Who in their right mind…_

He slowly starts making his way to the door.

“Wade? You home?”

Upon hearing Father Parker’s voice, Wade rushes to the door, throwing it open immediately.

“Father Peter! What…” Wade quickly trails off as he sees Father Peter looking more distraught than ever before. As Wade opens his mouth to finish his question, Father Parker starts crying.

Wade quickly pulls him into his home, slamming the door behind them. Father Parker hastily wipes at his tears, mumbling to himself to stop making such a fuss. Wade watches him, noticing that he is wearing the same cotton pants and thin shirt that he normally does when Wade catches him too early in the morning.

_Was he in bed just prior to coming here? But why is he dressed like this? Why didn’t he change first? Or did he change into that to come here? I don’t… understand…_

Wade doesn’t know what to do, or what he’s allowed to do. He gets a sinking suspicion and has to ask.

“Does this have anything to do with Cardinal Marc?”

Father Parker peeks over at him just seconds before choking back another sob. Without thinking, Wade closes the distance and moves to hug Father Parker. It isn’t until he’s already touching him that he realizes what he is doing, but at this point, only wrapping one arm around him loosely while the other arm awkwardly hovers is the best he can do to hold back.

Peter immediately inches closer, pressing his face against Wade’s chest and shielding it with his hands as best he can. As he feels Peter begin to shake with sobs, Wade moves his other arm down across Peter’s shoulders, pressing him closer. He squeezes his shoulders briefly before letting one of his hands slide up and down Father Parker’s back, hoping it will calm him some.

When Father Parker finally seems to calm down, Wade steps back a little to look at him, keeping one arm on him. Peter roughly wipes at his face, keeping his hands up to block Wade’s view, but Wade can see enough to know that tears are still falling. He steers him over to the couch and sits down, pulling Peter along with him.

Father Parker quickly turns his body so his back is facing Wade, sitting on the couch sideways. Wade snorts out a laugh and snakes an arm around him, pulling him back a little so he can rest his head on Wade’s shoulder while still keeping his face turned away. Wade listens carefully, but only hears the occasional sniffle, no sobbing.

After a few more moments, he asks, “So what is all this about?”

He feels Father Parker shake his head. “And here I thought I almost got away with not talking about it.”

Wade tightens his grip on him briefly, squeezing him around the middle. He whispers, “You still might. If you really don’t want to talk about it, then don’t. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Father Parker doesn’t say anything, but soon resumes crying again, shaking a little. Wade rubs soothing circles with his fingertips along Father Parker’s side, wishing that Father Parker will decide to talk, that way he’d at least know if there is anything else he can do to make him stop feeling terrible enough to cry.

“The one day… The one day I err on the more laxed side…” Wade waits patiently as Father Parker chokes back a sob. “They show up.”

“The clergy from your…” Wade isn’t sure what to call them, but Father Parker nods against his shoulder.

Father Parker sniffles a few times before continuing. “Even less of a warning this time. This time they just walked right into the sanctuary with the last few stragglers just before the service started. I didn’t even notice them until moments before the homily.”

“I take it something didn’t go well according to them?”

Wade doesn’t even get to finish his question before the sobs start again. Between gasps for breath and choking back tears, he hears Father Parker finally admit his pain.

“I don’t understand the point of it all and why… why all the negativity… is this my punishment? Will it… Will I always continue to be punished no matter what? I don’t know… why I’m doing this anymore…”

Wade turns his body slightly, trying to close the space between them. He hesitantly brings up his other hand to pull Peter closer.

“I feel… I feel like a fraud…”

“Hush! No, don’t-”

“A failure… a-”

“Stop that! Right now!”

Wade quickly removes himself from Peter and turns until he is facing him, sitting awkwardly sideways on the couch much like Peter. He struggles to get his leg between Father Parker and the back of the couch, but the priest doesn’t stop him. He sits there hunched over, crying harder into his hands. Once Wade manages to maneuver himself so that Father Parker is now seated between his legs, he leans over and wraps both arms around him. With a firm tug, he sits back, pulling Father Parker along with him. Peter puts up zero resistance, allowing himself to fall back into Wade.

Wade keeps his arms around Father Parker’s middle as he leans against him and cries. He only moves his arms a little when Peter starts to fidget, turning slightly so that he is curled against Wade’s torso.

Father Parker reaches up and gently clings to Wade’s shirt with one hand, mumbling, “I just feel like such a-”

“No, don’t,” Wade says firmly, holding him tighter now.

“But I-”

“No… Anything you feel right now is a _lie_. It’s just self-deprecation forced upon you by a clergyman who is, frankly, trying to play judge when no one is fit to cast the first stone. Insert Bible verse here… I don’t know, I’m too mad at him to remember exact verses right now.”

Peter coughs a little and Wade is pretty sure that is supposed to be a chuckle if not for all the crying. There’s a few seconds of silence before Father Parker makes a strangled sound, as if he is trying to suppress another sob.

Wade slowly moves a hand up Father Parker’s side, over his shoulder, dragging his fingertips along his neck, until he gently runs them through Father Parker’s hair just once. He freezes when he feels Peter shiver against him, not like a shake from crying but more like a sudden chill.

“You can cry all you need to, I don’t care, but I refuse to hear any negativity from you especially when I know it’s just falsehood planted by a cardinal with a grudge.”

Father Parker nods before shifting his weight a little, apparently trying to get more comfortable as he leans against Wade’s body.

Wade takes a chance and carefully runs his fingers through Father Parker’s hair again, attempting to disturb it as little as possible. He does this a few times until he hears a small hum from Peter; he didn’t know he was looking for a sign to continue until then. Taking a slow, steadying breath, Wade then runs his hand through his hair with more intent. He feels the softness against his fingers, watching how the strands move between them.

When Wade notices that Father Parker is still sniffling and occasionally reaching up to wipe at his eyes, Wade shifts lower onto the couch, pulling Peter closer to him with his other arm. He mindlessly lets his hand trail up and down his back, his fingers sometimes tracing arbitrary patterns.

The tears start to decrease, but Wade continues what he is doing. One or both of his hands may pause momentarily, but he has no intent on letting go.

But after a while, Wade realizes that Father Parker hasn’t said a word, nor has he made any sounds akin to crying. Carefully, he tries to peek over as he tilts the priest’s head back and realizes that Father Parker has fallen asleep on him.

Wade makes a soft, breathy laugh, slowly wrapping both arms around Peter’s shoulder to hold him close.

_I should probably let him rest for a little bit before waking him up. Or maybe… I might be able to carry him to my bed so he can stay asleep… He might not like sleeping in a strange bed though…_

Wade gently presses a kiss to the top of Father Parker’s head, causing him to stir slightly.

_Either way, best not to wake him just yet._


	32. Apr 14-15, 1958

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I'm posting this chapter while in church. :sly grin:

Wade wakes up with the most uncomfortable tingling sensation in his leg and winces as soon as he shifts, causing the discomfort to turn into sharp pins-and-needles. He panics slightly, immediately attributing it to an injury from work, before realizing he hasn’t sustained any injuries recently that would cause such nerve damage. Still, he tries to reach down while shifting his leg, only to realize he could barely move. It feels as though something is weighing him down. He cracks an eye open and sees his living room before darting his eyes down and spotting a mass of tousled brown hair just below his chin.

_What the… Peter!?_

Wade slowly moves what limbs he can, realizing that he has one arm laying low on Father Parker’s lap and a leg swung over one of Peter’s legs.

Shifting gradually, Wade tries to free his other arm from under Father Parker. This causes him to turn slightly, increasing his weight against Wade’s leg that is asleep. Wade groans slightly in pain as he breathes heavily through his nose, causing Peter’s hair to move. He tries to shift Father Parker’s weight subtly, but Peter starts to stir. Wade holds his breath as Father Parker stretches against him, letting out a yawn. He then suddenly bolts up, twisting his body away from Wade and giving him a terrified look.

Wade slowly scoots back and sits up properly, suddenly aware of how stiff his back has become after laying in such a position for so long.

Father Parker gapes at him, his mouth opening and closing a few times as if to speak, but clearly unsure of what to say.

Wade decides to ignore Father Parker’s current concern and instead tackle the original issue. “So… what happened yesterday? With the clergy?”

Wade watches as the fright on Father Parker’s face fades into discomfort.

“Basically, they… disapproved of certain parts of my sermon yesterday, and my conduct in general, enough so that the Cardinal wants to petition for a reexamination of… of my case…”

“Your sermon? But your sermon was… oh… oh, no… was it the joke!?”

Father Parker gives him a sheepish look. “Honestly, that was a part of it, but-”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have-”

Father Parker leans over, grabbing one of Wade’s hands. “No, don’t apologize. It was my choice to add it, and besides, it is only a tiny part of the issue. The Cardinal just isn’t one to joke around. That’s all.”

Wade gives him an unconvinced look.

“I’m serious! It’s fine.”

“Well, was there anything else then?”

Peter sighs heavily as he leans back against the couch. “He doesn’t think I’m doing a good job and keeps finding all these little things that add up to my… my insufficiency as a priest. And it doesn’t help that I’ve been having my own doubts.”

“What do you mean?”

“I try so hard to fill this role and follow all these extra rules given to me, but times like this make me reflect on why I’m doing this… and I don’t know the answer. Am I trying to run from my past? Am I simply trying to be as obedient as possible to prove my worth once again? Either way, I feel like a failure. Nothing I do is good enough, and I just-”

“Stop that.” Wade scoots closer to Father Parker, flinching a little at his leg still trying to regain full circulation. “I don’t want to hear you speak such terrible lies about yourself.”

Father Parker throws his hands up in the air and gives Wade a defeated look. “I just feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. At all. In general, as a priest, and especially in terms of appeasing the clergy, specifically the ones that are out to ruin me since they feel that I wasn’t punished properly.”

“So, you’re worried about pleasing those who are set to destroy you?”

Father Parker fumbles before coming up with his retort. “Well, if you’re going to phrase it like that-”

“It’s better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man… In other words, you should just keep doing what you’re doing, which is great deeds for your church and the Kingdom, rather than allowing the xclergy to tell you where your faith lies. They shouldn’t be the determinant of your worth.”

“But considering that this _is_ my _job_ , they are a determinant of my worth in that sense. And I’m just… I’m actually a bit furious. I do all these good works and for what? It all becomes negated by one bad sermon according to their standards and-”

“God is not unrighteous,” Wade says sternly, prompting Father Parker to turn back towards him, closing his mouth tightly. “God is not unrighteous. He will not forget your work and the love you have shown Him… Your labor in the Lord is not in vain… So, Cardinal Marc might ignore all your good deeds and make you feel like it was all for naught, but he’s just a man. He’s not the Lord.”

Father Parker is starting to get a bit annoyed that Wade is using scripture so well to refute all his negative emotions, feeling a bit ashamed at this. But even though he understands where his focus should lie, he’s still frustrated that these problems are happening in the first place.

“I can’t argue with you. We both know that. But there’s still the question of ‘Why?’ Why is there still so much disappointment? Why do I feel like I’m wandering around lost? Why must I-”

“The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in Him… You’re not delighting in Him… you’re too focused on people who do not matter in your life. Whether or not Cardinal Marc removes the stick up his butt long enough to crack a grin for once will not cause a magical padlock to appear on the pearly gates when you get called home. So his _appeasement_ should not matter, only God’s. When you follow the path of man, you’re going to find the rockiest of roads, getting lost at every turn.”

Father Parker groans in frustration, feeling tears starting to well up again. He knows that his biggest issue is that he believes the clergy to be right, especially since he’s been having doubts about what he’s meant to do in life. But this is something he can never admit to Wade, not after all those times he’s said he’s looked up to him, appreciated him, and feels so blessed to have such a priest in his life.

Wade scoots closer, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder, and that is enough to release the dam.

“I still feel like I’m not suited for this. For any of it. All because of one stupid mistake, and now… I should have never…” Father Parker can feel his voice start to break but he is unable to stop himself at this point. “I’m a hypocrite, and I shouldn’t even be near the altar. I just feel like everything that comes out of my mouth is nonsense, just putrid lies falling from my lips every Sunday…”

“His mouth is most sweet.”

Father Parker hesitates a moment, feeling a bit blindsided by the comment. “I would hardly say that. It’s nothing but a source of filth. I can’t stand to hear my own voice anymore and-”

“Let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet.”

Father Parker feels his heart flip slightly at the low and soft way Wade is currently speaking. He starts to reply, but when he feels a tear break free, sliding down his cheek, he realizes he can only trust himself enough to shake his head.

Wade reaches up and slowly wipes away the tear, letting his hand linger on Father Parker’s face. “Your lips drip nectar. Honey and milk are under your tongue.”

Father Parker suddenly gasps inward realizing that Wade is still quoting scripture, though he isn’t sure if Wade fully understands the context of what he is quoting.

Wade then slowly moves his thumb, trailing closer to Peter’s lips. When he speaks again, it’s barely above a whisper.

“Mouth like fine wine.”

Father Parker immediately darts his eyes down towards Wade’s lips. He doesn’t realize he has run his tongue over his own bottom lip until he feels his breath hitch. He looks back up towards Wade’s eyes, to look for confirmation for what he’s about to do, but instead finds only concern in his eyes. Wade’s stare is steady and his brow furrowed.

Father Parker scrambles backwards, away from Wade, suddenly feeling ashamed of his intentions.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, before rushing to his feet. “I’ve… I’ve taken up too much of your time. I should go.”

Wade stands, reaching out towards him with one hand. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I just… I should probably get back home so I can…” Father Parker glances out the window, realizing it is still dark out. “So I can rest… Think with a clearer head in the morning.”

Wade simply nods, but gives him a confused look all the same.

Father Parker hastens towards the door, but before he leaves, he glances back at Wade and says, “Thank you…”

The following day, Father Parker has several meetings all around town for various reasons. During this time, several of the townspeople thank him for the wonderful sermon, compliment him on it, or mention the joke, sharing a few of their own favorite religious ones. Father Parker has had people compliment him on sermons before, but never have there been so many people all in the same day, even when he lived in the crowded city. Plus, the compliments usually ended on Sunday, not two whole days later. He is astounded that his sermon might have really resonated with the congregation in such a manner. By the end of his day of meetings, which would have usually tired him out, Father Parker finds himself with renewed motivation.

_Wade was right… Though the clergy in the dioceses and above may want me to be more serious to prove my worth, my real worth is right here. I’m reaching the people, and shouldn’t that be what matters?_


	33. Apr 16 – May 15, 1958

The following day, Wade stops by the priory to look over a homily for Father Parker. As they are finishing up, Wade asks, “What are the chances your superiors will be coming by again? As in, this Sunday?”

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Father Parker fights against the thoughts of dealing with any archbishops or cardinals, especially ones that would have rather seen him excommunicated from the church. He swallows dryly as he tries to rationalize the actual chances. “I don’t think… it’s _very_ likely. Not impossible, but probably still will not happen, not this Sunday at least. Why?”

“Ah, just, figured you could round this out with a joke-”

Father Parker quickly glances over to Wade.

“Or… maybe not. Sorry. I’m really sorry. That was probably not the best-”

“No, no, it’s fine!”

“No, I just-”

“It’s fine!” Father Parker puts a hand gently over Wade’s on the kitchen table. “I’m serious. I actually think it might work. Maybe just something more subtle this time.”

Wade quirks his brow at him. “Are you sure? Because your cardinal didn’t seem to-”

“I’m positive. Yes, he’s not a fan of humor or happiness.” Wade snorts out a laugh at that comment. “But the congregation seemed to like it.”

“Really?”

Father Parker nods fervently, feeling himself grinning broadly. “Yes! I talked to several individuals yesterday and many told me they liked the sermon, some even liked the joke and shared a few of their own!”

Wade slides his hand out from under Father Parker’s as he sits up further, leaning more heavily on the table. “Seriously!? Oh, wow. Now I’m tempted to crack more jokes whenever I visit people.”

The thought of Wade being social with other members of the community, to the point of joking around, warms Father Parker’s heart even further.

“But hey, this proves that I was right! You’re good at your job. God made you a priest because that’s where you need to be. You’re not a fraud or a failure; you’re an excellent priest who has an unfortunate relationship with some of the clergy. Still, doesn’t mean you don’t know how to deliver a good sermon.”

Father Parker smiles warmly at Wade before they go back to finishing the homily. When Peter writes out the last line—another challenge to the church, a pun tucked within—Wade giggles softly. Wade then stands, gathering up his supplies to head home for the day.

“Is there anything else you need me to do?”

Father Parker shakes his head. “Not unless there is a project you wanted to work on yourself…”

“No. I’m at a good point for a break. Speaking of which… Do you mind watering my plants for me while I’m gone?”

Father Parker feels his smile falter a little, realizing that Wade must be expecting to be gone too long to allow his plants to just fend for themselves. “Oh, yes, of course. You have… _work_?”

Wade nods.

Father Parker returns the gesture, standing up slowly to see Wade out. “Do the good deed.”

“Good deed,” Wade says quietly before laughing. “I shall try. I should be back in May.”

“May!? But April just started!” Father Parker looks away, hands hesitantly reaching up to cover part of his face in embarrassment over his outburst.

“I know… but I will return home. No worries.”

Wade turns to head out the door but, as he opens it, he suddenly feels arms wrapping around his middle. He pauses and feels a bit breathless as Father Parker presses his face into Wade’s back. He slowly places a hand over one of Peter’s arms, hesitating just once before contact.

“Please come back safely.”

Wade stutters out a breath at how quiet Father Parker’s voice is.

“Of course. Promise.”

Wade feels Father Parker’s arms slide away from him, mourning the loss of contact from behind him. He waits a few seconds, resisting the urge to turn around and hug him properly, before walking out the door without looking back.

As long as there is no rain, Father Parker goes to Wade’s home every day for the next two weeks to water the plants. And, each time, he stands on the porch steps and whispers a prayer for Wade to return safely. More recently, whenever he opens his eyes, he half-expects to see Wade walking up the path and always feels a bit disappointed when he doesn’t, having to remind himself that there’s still plenty of time until May.

About halfway through the month, Peter decides to wander around Wade’s property. He notices a pile of scrap metal haphazardly laying out behind the house and starts tidying it up, stacking it more neatly. After doing so, he goes inside to wash his hands and soon realizes that Wade might not have had a chance to clean up before he left for his other job. There are articles of clothing laying on the couch, an empty bag in the middle of the floor, boots in the kitchen that appeared to have been kicked off and then ignored, a plate and a fork in the sink, and finally a bottle of wine on the kitchen counter.

He picks up the bag and examines it, seeing a few military-like patches sewn on the side.

_He must have had to pack in a hurry. I hope he didn’t rush because we spent far too long on that homily. If he needed to go earlier, he should have said something!_

Without much thought, Father Parker immediately decides to help fix up the place for Wade, but the process is slow. Peter has not been to Wade’s home many times and he’s quite unfamiliar with where certain things belong. This is only made worse in the rooms beyond the kitchen and living room where he’s never been before.

Father Parker ends up not doing much tidying at all as he gets distracted by looking at all the little trinkets of Wade’s hidden life. For the next week, each time Father Parker finishes his prayers and waters the plants, he wanders inside Wade’s home and tidies just a little bit before nosing around, trying to learn more about the man who occupies so many of his thoughts.

He finds more books in languages he can’t read.

He finds a coat, one far too long and thick for the winters in their part of France. It’s not the size of the coat that’s unusual to Peter, but the slashes and holes in it along with the stains around the damage.

He finds a surplus of weapons in a closet, immediately closing the door and clutching his rosary as he catches his breath.

He finds a picture of Wade and an older lady, most likely Blind Al. They’re on the coast, and Wade seems to be in the middle of laughing while the lady just scowls in his direction.

He finds the rest of Wade’s liquor, adding the bottle of wine from the counter to it, wondering if Wade drinks, if he would ever share a glass with him, like Peter once used to with Harry.

Father Parker shakes his head vehemently, as if to physically remove the thought from his mind.

But he can’t stop thinking about it. The more he loiters around Wade’s home, the more he finds his thoughts wandering. Sometimes it’s innocent, like sharing more meals at the table or sitting by the fireplace together. Sometimes it is not, like when he looks at Wade’s bed and thinks about the things Wade could do to him there.

_I need to stop this. I can’t keep thinking about him like this. It’s just setting myself up for disappointment._

Father Peter spends one afternoon thinking about his relationship with Wade, realizing that he’s the one who has been pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable. To make matters worse, deep down inside, he has convinced himself that Wade might at least be okay with Father Peter’s recent behavior, if not actually willing to reciprocate the feelings behind them. However, the more he dwells on their recent interaction, the more he convinces himself that it has all been one-sided.

_Wade… was just being friendly… and he’s probably too friendly to tell me to stop._

He realizes that he needs to pull back, to stop, but as he enters the last week of April, he still finds himself struggling, his thoughts wandering where they shouldn’t each time he enters Wade’s cabin.

Father Parker eventually gives his burdens over in prayer.

_Lord, please give me a sign, please help me… Show me what I need to do to ensure I won’t ruin everything, so I can keep my relationship with Wade where it needs to be…_

When Peter leaves for the day, he returns home to find that a strange letter has been delivered again. He feels instantly excited to see some correspondence from Wade. But then he realizes the irony, the chances of the letter arriving just after he prayed for a sign. He’s immediately filled with worry for Wade’s wellbeing. Father Parker barely steps inside his own home before ripping the missive open, quickly skimming through unfamiliar handwriting, pausing briefly afterwards when he realizes it isn’t from Wade, but about Wade.

> _Priest,_
> 
> _Thanks for looking after ~~Wade~~ Mr. Wilson. He really needs it, and you seem to be doing a good job of it. Seriously. He’s been so wound up for years that seeing him this laid back and happy is a bit unnerving. Actually, since you’re a priest and all, you might want to exorcise him just in case. Can’t be too careful._
> 
> _Anyways, just wanted to say thanks. But also, don’t do anything to hurt him. He’s been through enough. Because if I find out that you’ve wronged him in any way, I’ll have to seek vengeance. And honestly, that sounds like a lot of work, so please don’t make me do it._

Father Parker reads through the letter a couple more times as he slowly makes his way to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed. He determines it is most likely from that friend Wade has previously mentioned, but he never asked for a name and the letter is unsigned, so he isn’t completely certain. But the part that stood out the most is the line ‘He’s been through enough.’

Father Parker agrees. It’s taken well over a year for Wade to just be on speaking terms with several members of the community. To suffer so much pain and loss throughout his life, and then having the one place that should accept you instead turn on you and insist on your ostracism... Father Parker is simply amazed at the strength Wade has displayed enduring such a life.

_And I can’t ruin that._

He reads the letter again, specifically the threat, but feels as though it may be shallow. Even with the joke about being too lazy to seek vengeance, Father Parker is still concerned about hurting Wade.

_I keep pushing him, pushing for something more between us, when there can never be anything beyond me being a religious mentor and us being friends._

Father Parker makes up his mind and sticks to it, simply watering the plants and saying a short, simple prayer each day, nothing more, not even entering the cabin where his mind tends to wander.

_I need to stop setting myself up for heartbreak._

_I can’t keep following these unholy feelings and risk undoing months of progress for him._ _Wade clearly doesn’t want that, only wants to have a place to belong. I can’t let my immoral heart cause us both ruin and hurt. It’s not right for my sin to interfere with his life._

_He’d be better off without my corruption._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made several playlists while writing this fic.  
> One of them is a playlist of Wade's favorite songs to hum to while in the garden. Or while on missions. Like he is right now.  
> [Click here if you wanna listen.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6A0GhYaR0BGrMLbAKS6nAv?si=-sh6GgB5QYG8N6J3Lc11uA)


	34. May 18-21, 1958

Late at night on the first Friday in May, Father Parker has barely begun to drift off to sleep when there comes a loud knock on his door. He shuffles towards the front of the rectory and calls out, “Who is it?”

“Uh, Wade? Mr. Wilson? Whichev-”

Father Parker throws the door open, and Wade slides past him before Father Parker can even greet him or ask what he is doing here. He watches as Wade immediately heads towards the kitchen, carrying an overstuffed satchel. Father Parker starts to follow him, but suddenly recalls that night many months ago when Wade came back from a mission just like this and needed medical attention. Peter rushes to get his first aid kit and some towels before jogging back into the kitchen. When he sets the supplies down on the table, he is pleasantly surprised to see that the blood is minimal and mostly dried. He chances a glance down towards Wade’s hands, starting to feel a bit nauseous at the thought of what he might see, but instead breathes out shakily in relief.

_All his fingers are there and are the right size. Thank the Lord._

Wade gives him a confused look and Father Parker stutters out, “I, uh… I just thought… since last time…”

Wade laughs breathily. “Oh! Right. It took me a while to get home, so I had more time to heal before coming here.”

Father Parker gives him a once-over before saying, “But it probably still wouldn’t hurt to at least clean up what’s left.” He turns to get a bowl of warm water before Wade can respond.

As Father Parker sits and cleans the few wounds he can see on Wade, he mumbles out, “It doesn’t look as bad as last time.”

Wade makes an unusual face at the comment, so Peter asks, “Was it as bad as last time?”

“Uh, well, I mean… you can’t really-”

“Remove your shirt.”

“What?!”

“I said ‘remove your shirt.’ I want to see the extent of the bullet wounds and other damage.” Father Parker preps another towel and gives Wade a look, as if daring to challenge him. Wade knows better than to do that, so he just sits up in his chair and removes his outermost shirt.

Father Parker starts to apply the towel to the wound at the base of Wade’s neck then pauses. He uses his finger to point at Wade’s fitted tank top before making an upward gesture.

“You really don’t need to-”

Father Parker gives him the same look while gesturing with his finger again. Wade stops talking. He subtly rolls his eyes but complies nonetheless, removing the tank top as well.

Father Parker starts cleaning up the dirt and blood around Wade’s neck and shoulders, pausing frequently as he examines the wounds. He does not know how bad the cuts were originally, but all the other wounds he is currently attending to look more like scratches at this point. He is beginning to believe that Wade may have just experienced a multitude of superficial cuts, but the two overlapping cuts by Wade’s neck are much deeper, appearing more like a gash with a giant divot in the inflamed skin. As he cleans, he realizes the wound extends over his shoulder towards his back. Father Parker stands, slowly toweling away the grime as he walks around Wade. He feels his breath hitch as he examines the back of Wade’s neck, now no longer covered by his shirt. The cut appears to go towards his spine before stopping abruptly, the skin so inflamed at the stop that it is starting to pucker.

 _How wide… how wide are spines? Is this wound_ touching _his spine? Or is it crossing-_

“Wade,” Father Parker breathes out shakily. “What happened?”

Wade quickly reaches up and feels at the back of his neck. “Crap.”

“What-”

Wade spins around in his seat, looking at Father Parker as he says, “It’s not as bad as it looks!”

Father Parker gives him a disbelieving scowl.

“Okay. Fine. It is actually a lot worse than it looks. But I’m alive, and I’m here now, so…”

With a heavy sigh, Father Parker gestures for Wade to turn back around in his chair. As he finishes cleaning the most severe wound, he asks, “So what happened?”

“I uh… Well… I don’t think you really want to know.”

Father Parker stares at the wound for a moment, once again questioning just how close to his spine this injury occurred.

_Or through his spine? Like he was almost behead- NO. No, no, no. Stop it before you make yourself sick._

“You know what, I do believe you’re right. Just ignore my question,” Father Parker says, busying himself with cleaning up the supplies he has brought out.

Wade chuckles as he starts to slip his tank top back on. “Sounds good to me. I really don’t want to think about it myself.”

As Father Parker puts away the first aid kit, Wade calls out to him, “Actually, I do want to think about it… because it’s why I’m here tonight.”

“Oh? To get patched up again? Maybe scare me with your lack of-” Father Parker stops joking when he reenters the kitchen, seeing Wade sitting at the table with a serious look directed right at him. Peter quickly walks towards the kitchen table. As he pulls out the chair across from Wade, he says, “Wha-what’s going on? What happened?”

Wade stands suddenly, causing Father Parker to still for a moment before standing upright and pushing the chair back in. Wade then slowly steps around the table, gradually decreasing the distance between them. Father Parker slowly spins around, watching him. By the time Wade stops, Peter is directly between Wade and the table, with only a few centimeters of space in either direction. Swallowing dryly, he tries to ask Wade what he is doing when Wade reaches up towards Father Parker’s face. His hand hovers for a moment, gently, before touching his cheek with only his fingertips. Peter feels himself start to flush as Wade slowly moves his hand until he’s cupping Father Parker’s jaw, his thumb tenderly moving back and forth across his cheek.

“Peter.”

Because it is whispered, it takes Father Parker a moment to open his eyes, not realizing that he has closed them at some point.

“I’ve been thinking about that hug… that kiss-”

“Please don’t,” Father Parker says so softly that he isn’t even sure the words escaped. So, he clears his throat and tries again. “Please don’t bring up the-”

“I have to.”

Father Parker shivers as Wade brings up his other hand, gently resting it against Peter’s neck.

“But why? What good can it do? We should just forget that it-”

“I can’t forget. And, honestly, I wouldn’t want to. It’s been plaguing my thoughts… I can’t help thinking about it, to the point of wanting more. And though I hate to admit it, I’ve tried taking more, but…” Wade lowers his head down just a bit, enough to make Father Parker feel like he truly cannot escape his presence. “This last venture was bad, Peter, terribly bad. I thought I was really going to die for good, that everything would be over… but the thought of you kissing me again changed things.”

Father Parker takes a few steadying breaths before asking, “What do you mean it changed things for you?”

“Missing that chance, dying before I could see if you’d let me kiss you again, _that_ would be hell for me, not the one with fire and brimstone.”

Father Parker places his hands on Wade’s arms gently. A small voice is telling him to stand his ground and push Wade away, ending them from sinning further, but the voice with more conviction is telling Peter to pull him closer, eliminating any distance between them. Father Parker does neither, just stands there, his fingers twitching slightly against Wade’s sleeves.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one still thinking about that kiss.”

“I…” Father Parker realizes his only options are to worsen the situation or lie, and neither are desirable at this moment. “I don’t believe that thinking about that… kiss… could…”

Father Parker trails off when he realizes he has slipped his hands further up Wade’s arms until he’s clasping his hands behind Wade’s neck, his pinky brushing up against the wound there.

“So, you do still think about it,” Wade says, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Father Parker tries his best not to respond, to not admit anything, but he understands that a lack of words makes no difference when he’s already breathing harder, staring at Wade’s lips.

Wade rubs his thumb along Father Parker’s cheek a few more times before extending it a bit further out, brushing it along the edge of Peter’s lower lip. Father Parker gives a small breathy gasp and immediately glances up towards Wade’s eyes.

Wade quietly begs, “Please.”

Peter leans in, his eyes fluttering momentarily before closing, as he gives one small nod.

Wade moves instantly, kissing Father Parker much harder than he intended, pulling back soon after with a whispered apology falling from his lips just before he gives Peter another, softer, peck. Shuffling on his feet, Wade struggles to decide whether or not to try again when Peter glances back up at him through his eyelashes. Father Parker bites his bottom lip as his eyes dart back down towards Wade’s mouth. That’s all the sign Wade needs.

Wade carefully holds Peter’s head steady as he leans back in, firmly pressing his lips against Father Parker’s. But his body also moves forward, pressing Peter into the table behind them, causing it to move slightly, squeaking against the floor. Father Parker stumbles a little with the sudden movement, and Wade immediately moves one hand down Peter’s back to keep him steady, breaking the kiss in the process. Wade stares at Father Parker, his eyes clearly darting down towards Peter’s lips twice, as Father Parker tries to catch his breath. He tries to stand upright but causes the table to shift again. He reaches down to grasp the edge of the table for balance. Memories rapidly pass through his mind of all the times they’ve shared here.

_Working on homilies._

_Sharing a meal._

_Coffee breaks._

_Tending to his wounds._

_And now… kissing…_

Wade starts to lean in again, and Father Parker reflexively tilts his head away. “No. We can’t. We have to stop this.” Peter regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth though a part of him believes it is the right thing to do.

Wade freezes in place, giving him a considering look. “Is that what you really want? To stop?”

Father Parker thinks for a moment before coming to a decision, feeling more certain about it than any other decision he’s made in the past few months. “No. It’s not.”

Wade smiles softly as he tugs Father Parker back towards him. “You sure about that?”

Father Parker nods, whispering, “Yes. This is fine for now.”

Without much thought, he leans up and kisses Wade softly. They exchange a few gentle pecks before Father Parker begins kissing with more passion, the contact lingering and almost teasing at times. He feels Wade move his arms further down his back but does not pay it much mind. Then he feels Wade suddenly holding him tight, lifting him up against himself. Peter gasps into the kiss before breaking it, staring at Wade. He wraps his arms around Wade's neck and gives Wade a confused look when he starts laughing.

“Don’t worry. I won’t drop you.”

Father Parker doesn’t respond. He simply leans back in and resumes kissing him. He doesn’t know if it is the way Wade is holding him to accommodate for their height difference, the fact that he’s been wanting this for over a year, or any of the other dozens of reasons, but Father Parker suddenly has the urge to deepen the kiss and see where that can lead, how far they can go. And that is his breaking point.

_This is too much. I can’t let it go any further._

Peter stays pressed against his lips for a few seconds longer before leaning back, catching his breath.

Wade starts to lean in again, but Father Parker turns his head, shaking it as he goes.

“We should stop here.”

Wade doesn’t move for a moment. He then carefully places Father Parker back on the ground, but doesn’t remove his arms from around him, keeping him close. He slowly brings up a hand, running a thumb across the now swollen bottom lip. Peter can hear his heart pounding in his ears, so loud he could barely make out Wade’s murmuring.

“His mouth is as sweet as milk and honey, but as intoxicating as wine.”

Wade tries to lean in for a kiss, but Father Parker shakes his head again as he places both hands atop Wade’s mouth. “No. I said we need to stop.”

Wade nods but presses his lips against Peter’s hand, kissing his palm. Father Parker snatches his hands back and gives him a disapproving stare.

_He’s not going to let me stop, is he?_

Wade lets go of Father Parker, slowly raising his hands in the air in defeat. “Sorry. Sorry. I just… I wasn’t quite ready to finish.”

Father Parker takes a moment to remind himself why he wanted them to stop in the first place before saying, “It's fine. I just… I don’t want to cross a line, and it’s late, and-”

“I should probably go, right?”

The words sting a little, but the playful way that Wade says them and the smile he gives are enough to assure Peter that Wade understands. Father Parker smiles back, nodding.

Wade grunts a little as he hoists his bag up off the ground. He then goes back to standing in front of Father Parker. Looking at him for a brief moment, as if deep in thought, Wade lunges forward and presses one final peck on his forehead.

Father Parker shoves at him while ignoring the warm feeling smoldering in his chest. “Wade! Leave!”

Wade laughs loudly as he turns towards the door. “I will, but only for tonight.”


	35. May 18-21, 1958

Father Parker doesn’t see Wade again until he’s in the middle of the homily the following Sunday. He reads the next line, looking up just in time to see Wade slip inside the sanctuary, grinning sheepishly at him. Father Parker looks back down and starts reading the same line again, fumbling his words as he tries to figure out where the next line starts. Feeling too embarrassed to look back up at Wade so soon, Peter continues to read without glancing away from his homily. He can feel the heat from his flush and does not want Wade to get a better view of it. But when he looks up again, he realizes it does not matter, not with the way Wade is smirking at him and most likely has been since he sat down in his pew.

Father Parker says a small prayer of thanks after the sermon, glad that he is able to finish it without any other slip-ups or embarrassments.

After the service, Father Parker sees Wade heading straight towards the altar, but before he can get there, two of the deacons walk up to Peter to ask about their volunteer project at the local school the next day. Father Parker addresses all their questions, but by the time he is done, Wade is no longer in sight.

With a heavy sigh, Father Parker gathers his Bible and his notes then heads out of the sanctuary.

“Hey, Father-”

“My gracious!” Father Parker half-shouts, spinning around towards the source of the voice.

Wade pushes up off the wall of the church where he has been leaning and takes a few steps towards Father Parker, clearly trying to stifle his laughter.

“Why were you hiding there!?” Father Parker makes no attempts to hide his annoyance.

“I wasn’t hiding!” Peter smiles at how overly defensive Wade sounds. “I was merely waiting on you!”

“In hiding.”

Wade rolls his eyes. He starts to open his mouth but Father Parker cuts him off.

“Anyways, where were you yesterday? I thought since you were back from your trip, you’d tend to the garden?” Father Parker smirks at how natural that sounded. He has thought about and has practiced that question a lot longer than he cares to admit. When he didn’t see Wade at all the previous day, he became concerned that it might have something to do with the kiss, telling Wade to leave, or both.

Wade doesn’t respond. Instead he starts walking towards the rectory, looking back at one point to see if Father Parker is following. Peter jogs to catch up, his anxiety only increasing as the question remains unanswered.

As Father Parker walks up the front steps, he sees from his periphery that Wade has stopped moving. Peter turns, tilting his head at him.

Wade whispers, “About yesterday…”

Father Parker feels his heart drop at the seriousness of Wade’s tone.

“I needed to go stock up on a few supplies and decided to go hunting while I was out.” Wade jerks his head towards one of the mountains, and Peter knows Wade means he left the town borders completely. “Besides, I knew you had a lot of work yesterday, so I decided not to bother you. For once.”

“I appreciate your… concern? But when you say ‘hunting,’ do you mean hunting as in-”

“Actual hunting. Not… yeah… ‘work’ but hunting as in acquiring meat for dinner if you would like to-”

“Yes. Yes, I would love that.”

Wade grins broadly at him. “I heard the other clergy mention something about volunteer work tomorrow, so does Tuesday work for you?”

Father Parker simply nods.

“My place?”

“I’ll be there,” Father Parker says quietly, turning around to go inside the priory.

As soon as he is safely inside, Father Parker lays on his couch, sighing heavily.

_Last time I was in his house, I decided to add some distance between us to keep him from my sins. Now, after I’ve clearly failed at that, I’m going back. I do believe foolishness is my greatest sin._

Father Parker doesn’t know if he is scared or thrilled at the possibility of having a repeat of the other night, but the more he thinks about it, the less it feels like sinning to him.

Tuesday evening, Father Parker is walking the road to Wade’s home when he sees Wade come out from the trail that leads to his cabin.

“What are you doing here?”

Wade jogs towards him, grinning. “I was about to come get you so we could walk here together.”

_Why do you have to do things like that? Now I’m going to be more of a fumbling mess around you._

As Wade finishes prepping their dinner, and then throughout the entire meal, he tells Father Parker a few stories about his recent missions. Peter appreciates how Wade does not talk about the actual point of his job but instead the other aspects unrelated to it. He focuses on the stories centered around exploring different cultures or a few antics some orphans that he’s saved have put him through. Father Parker feels as though Wade has been talking about his most recent vacation and has nearly forgotten about the real reason why Wade always leaves town. Then Father Parker notices a small strip of gauze wrapped around Wade’s left pinky.

It stays on Father Parker’s mind for the rest of the meal, but he does not dare ask about it or inquire further into Wade’s job and healing ability. Once they finish dinner, there is a lull in the conversation as Father Parker helps Wade clear the table. Suddenly having more courage to ask, Peter waits for an opportunity to bring up the topic.

Meanwhile, Wade pours a cup of coffee for the both of them before he leads the way to the couch. He sits down and places their cups on the table in front of them, patting the cushion next to him afterwards to get Father Parker to sit rather than just stare at him with a confused look.

Peter slowly sits down on the couch and subtly points to the gauze Wade is currently picking at. “What happened there?”

“Huh? Oh! This?” Wade looks down at his finger, suddenly aware that he is absentmindedly toying with the bandage. “I just cut myself while butchering the meat. Should be fine now, actually.” Wade unwraps his hand and shows Peter. Father Parker grabs his hand, examining it, but can’t seem to find any marks that would indicate it was recently cut.

_At least, nothing that stands out against all the other scars._

“How can this be? I’ve seen you bleeding out before, then there are times like this where it’s like you were never injured.”

Wade takes his hand back, reexamining the pinky. “It was a shallow cut. Blood surfaced but didn’t spill. I never really tracked it, not consistently at least, but I do believe I heal at a steady rate. Smaller injuries heal quicker and those times you saw me bleeding were because the injuries were more severe, so they took longer. It’s like anyone else trying to heal from a wound. Just faster.”

“Except people don’t heal from bullets through their torso or regrow severed parts.”

“Ah, yeah, true.” Wade stares down at his hands as he lets out a breathy laugh. “Just meant the rate of healing. A papercut for you would heal much quicker than a giant gash. Same thing for me. I can heal from things most can’t, and even regrow limbs, but that takes me a lot longer than something like a quick slip of a knife along my pinky.”

Wade gives Father Parker a teasing look as he dramatically sticks out the aforementioned finger, and then proceeds to take a sip of coffee, pinky awkwardly out the entire time.

Father Parker shakes his head, refusing to give Wade the satisfaction of laughing. His eyes then dart towards Wade’s neck, thinking about the wound there from the other night, the image of it plaguing his recent nightmares.

“So, um… So what about… your… Never mind, I really shouldn’t-”

“No, go ahead. At this point, I’m sure there’s nothing you can ask me that I would refuse to answer.”

_Gracious. I should not be this touched about such a statement!_

“What about the wound on your neck? It looked quite severe. Is it… is it healed yet?”

Wade rubs at the back of his neck. “I think I might be. I’m not completely certain though.”

“How can you be not certain about…” Father Parker trails off when Wade gestures to his entire body.

“You tend to get used to scars when your whole body is in a perpetual state of healing from cancer, leaving you looking like scar tissue with a face. Besides, I can’t really see that part of my body without a clever set up of mirrors. And I just don’t care enough to check. If it’s not completely healed yet, it will be soon, so…” Wade shrugs as he takes another sip of coffee.

Father Parker sips at his own cup, plucking up the courage to ask his next question. He sets the cup down rather roughly on the table before turning to Wade. “Do you mind if I check?”

Wade shakes his head, and Father Parker assumes Wade is telling him he can’t look. But then Wade sets his cup back down on the table and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He only unbuttons the top few buttons, just enough to pull the shirt back, spreading the collar open to expose more of his neck, shoulder, and chest.

Father Parker’s eyes stay fixed on the exposed skin as Wade turns slightly in his seat, making it easier for Peter to look at the back of his neck. Peter can see where the wound originally ended. There is no more inflammation, but there is a small dent in the skin, stark white like a scar, with the skin near it barely puckered, most likely unnoticeable to anyone else. That is, anyone but Father Parker who is now kneeling on the couch, leaning over Wade to look more closely. Peter runs a finger over the wound a few times, barely able to feel the difference from the rest of the skin as he quietly says, “It’s almost completely healed.”

“Oh, so it’s still there?”

“Barely.”

Without much thought Peter leans in and gently presses his lips to the base of Wade's neck. He sees Wade shiver slightly when he pulls back. Father Parker drags his finger along the wound, tracing it, or where it should be if Wade had not healed so quickly. Wade slowly turns, sitting properly on the couch, then twists his torso more to face Peter.

Before Father Parker can pull his hand away, Wade wraps his arms around Peter, pulling him closer. Peter falls from his kneeling position, landing on his hip, right on top of one of Wade’s thighs. He grips onto Wade during the fall, grabbing him by the shoulders. Wade tugs at Father Parker slightly, pulling him further up onto his lap. Peter responds by moving his hands further along Wade’s shoulders, until they are no longer on the fabric of his shirt. As he leans in, Wade slides his hands up Peter’s back; Father Parker slides his own down Wade’s chest in response. Peter feels like he might be breathing too hard, becoming too flushed, and tries to steady himself by focusing on how hard Wade’s heart is beating under his palm. But then Wade leans in further, slipping a hand up to the back of Father Parker’s neck to reel him in. Removing his other hand from Peter’s back, Wade brings it to his face, tracing a thumb faintly along Peter’s jawline.

He inclines his head, tilting it slightly, then stills. Father Parker watches him carefully, waiting for him to make the next move. When Wade finally does, it is only to speak.

“Tell me if this is too much.”

Peter gingerly inches closer and stops just before contact. He’s near enough for Wade’s lips to feel the heat of Father Parker’s breath as he speaks. “It’s not enough.”

Wade immediately presses their lips together. As Father Parker sighs into the kiss, he can feel Wade smile against his lips briefly. Moving along Father Parker’s body, Wade’s fingers start slowly exploring all the curves and angles he can get away with. He gradually begins working his hands back up Peter’s back when Father Parker begins moving his lips across Wade’s face, trailing gentle kisses down towards his neck. Wade then threads his hands into Father Parker’s hair, raking his fingers through it. The action draws a quiet moan from him, and he feels embarrassed as soon as it leaves his lips. 

Wade continues to play with Father Parker’s hair until Peter sits upright to resume kissing him properly again. They stay that way for quite some time, their coffee long forgotten on the table and now cold. When Father Parker finally pulls back, he notices that the room looks darker. As he glances out the window, Wade follows his gaze.

“Do you need to leave for the night?”

Father Parker nods. He does not want to leave, it feels far too soon for that, but he also does not intend for the sun to set on him.

Wade walks Father Parker back to the priory in a comfortable silence, the two men just enjoying each other’s company.

As Father Parker steps into the priory, he turns and thanks Wade for the meal before bidding him goodnight. Wade doesn’t reply. He simply lays a hand against the door, keeping it open as he leans in, face too close, clearly intent on kissing Peter goodnight.

Father Parker’s eyes immediately dart past him towards the church, and in a moment of panic, he uses all his strength to shut the door on Wade. He leans against it, a hand over his heart as he breathes deeply.

_I can’t believe he tried to do that, out in the open, in front of the church, in front of God!_

_It’s like he wants to get caught!_

Father Parker shakes his head, astounded at the move Wade just tried to pull, but a part of him has to admit-

_It was still rather thrilling._

He takes two steps into his living room before he finally realizes that he actually slammed the door right in Wade’s face. Full of remorse, Father Parker turns and throws the door open, an apology ready to fall from his lips. He looks around for a moment but doesn’t spot Wade anywhere.

Father Parker shrugs and closes the door, managing to forget all about his mistake as he goes to bed, his thoughts more focused on the other parts of his evening with Wade.

The next morning, Father Parker stops by the garden on the way to the church, greeting Wade. Wade doesn’t say anything back. Father Parker steps closer, questioning whether or not to repeat himself when Wade aggressively hammers another stake into the ground. As he does so, he says, “You know… I’d rather you tell me ‘no’ yourself than to hear it from your door.”

Father Parker starts to fumble out an apology just as Wade looks up, smirking at him. Annoyed, Father Parker sternly said, “NO,” before turning on his heel, heading to the church. His steps are firm as he walks off, but he cannot help the smile on his face at the sound of Wade’s laughter.


	36. May 28, 1958

Wade walks into the church on Wednesday, bible in hand and ready to read over Father Parker’s sermon, when he sees several clergy men and a few members of the community present. Some are running around frantically while others are gathered in small groups talking in hushed tones. He quietly makes his way to Father Parker’s office and asks him what is going on.

Father Parker looks back at him from his mass of notes and books laid out on the table. “Oh, my gracious, Wade, I… please come in…”

Wade steps further into the office hesitantly, not liking Father Parker’s tone. It sounds almost… weak.

“What is it?”

“Well, we will not be working on the homily today… I’m afraid I have to prepare for a funeral.”

“A… a funeral? Whose funeral?”

Father Parker gestures to the chair next to him, but Wade only stands defiantly in front of it, refusing to sit down. He sets his jaw firmly and convinces himself that this funeral has nothing to do with him.

_After all, I hardly know anyone in town these days. I don’t really know these people. I’ve barely-_

“It’s Mrs. Beaumont.”

Wade drops down hard in the chair, causing it to shift back, slamming into the wall. He fumbles the bible in his hand, the one that once belonged to Uncle Ben, before tossing it onto the desk. He leans back in the chair and covers his face with his hands.

“Pe- Father Parker. I promise I will not be mad, not much at least, if you tell me right now that you’re just pulling a cruel prank.”

“As awful as that would be, I wish I was pulling such a prank.”

Wade rubs his hands roughly across his face a few times, before leaning over, resting his elbows on his knees. He sighs heavily before saying, “I was supposed to visit her tomorrow. Coffee. The usual stuff, but we were going to swap a few family recipes since she said her sons don’t deserve it.” Wade chuckles softly. “She’s such a feisty character. Reminds me of Al but with less profanity, and I don’t get any bruises from a cane.”

Father Parker breathes out a laugh.

“I can't believe it. Just one more day. I just needed her to…” Wade breathes out shakily, slowly losing the fight against his tears. He has never cried in front of Father Parker, and he wants to keep it that way.

Father Parker reaches over, placing a hand tentatively on Wade’s shoulder. “I know. I know. I wish I knew what to say, but for now, just take solace in two facts. She passed peacefully in her sleep, and she most likely thought of you as family, seeing as she was willing to share recipes.”

Wade just shakes his head, unsure of what to say. This is certainly not the first time he lost someone close to him, but it is the first time it has happened since his hope and faith are starting to be restored.

“You will come to the funeral though, right?”

Wade thinks about it for a minute, wondering if he will be welcomed, especially with the rest of the Beaumont family there. He ultimately decides that he should at least pay his respects, even if it’s from far off and to the side. “I will. When is it?”

“Saturday.”

Wade groans and hangs his head. “I have a job out of town.”

“Can’t you just… not go?”

Wade shakes his head. “No. I can’t. It’s this kind, old lady who’d been widowed by the war, and now she’s just… there are some truly terrible people out there…” Wade sits and dwells on it for a moment, having to remind himself he's already postponed helping her by over a week at this point. He sits upright, slapping his hands down on his thighs. “Nope. I have to take this job. It’s basically symbolic justice. Mrs. Beaumont might appreciate it if I were able to help one other war widow.”

Father Parker nods as if he understands, but he knows that deep down that Wade would prefer to attend the funeral instead. He then turns towards his desk, looking at the notes he's crafted to be used for the funeral service.

“Could you tell me a bit about Mrs. Beaumont?”

Wade quirks his brow at Peter.

“I don’t want to use a generic message for her eulogy. I want to talk about her not just as a believer or member of the congregation but as a person beloved by others, others such as yourself. So, how would you describe Mrs. Beaumont?”

Wade talks about her quirks, her sense of humor, a few funny stories, the fact that she showed compassion to him in such an indirect way he didn’t even notice it at first. Father Parker laughs at that last part, remembering how she had tricked Wade into coming over to do repairs, simply to feed him and spend time with him. Father Parker takes notes as Wade continues down memory lane, ending with the fact that she was willing to share recipes with him and even offered to teach him directly when he'd complained that he’s been living in France for far too long to still struggle with baking French dishes.

Father Parker makes a note to check her home for these recipes, to see if he can copy down a few for Wade before her sons divide up her possessions. He then says, “Come see me as soon as you get back from your mission. We’ll go pay our respects then.”

“You’re not going to pay your respects at the funeral you’re officiating?” Wade smirks for the first time since entering Father Parker’s office.

“Oh, well, I suppose you’re right. You can just go by yourself then,” Peter sasses back, turning away from Wade.

“No! I’m sorry!” Wade reaches out and gently places a hand on Father Parker’s arm. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

Father Parker smiles at him. “Of course. But, um… What about Al? Where is she?”

“Oh, it’s a lot further up on the path. There’s another side road that dead-ends and up in a clearing there’s a boulder. She’s in the shade of it. Didn’t care too much for the sun.”

Father Parker frowns at the vague description.

_There’s no way I can find that. There’s probably several side roads and… it’s the mountains! There are probably plenty of boulders in clearings. How would I even know if I found it?_

“Do you mind if we go? I never knew her, but I would still like to pray over her.”

“Oh! Sure! Let me know whenever you want to go. Just… please tell her I’m doing good. I don’t think she believes me whenever I tell her.”

Father Parker snickers. “She’s right not to.”

Wade gapes at him, and Father Parker has to look away, trying not to laugh more. He quickly organizes the papers and books on his desk before standing up, heading to the office door.

“Are you coming?”

“Wait, where?” Wade asks as he starts to stand.

“To convince Al you’re doing good.”

“What? Now!?”

Father Parker shrugs. “Well, why not? Are you doing anything else right now?”

Wade shrugs, immediately following Father Parker out of the office. “I suppose not. But I… I’m… I’m wearing green today. She hates green on me.”

“Could she even _see_ green on you?”

Wade stays quiet for a moment before mumbling. “Stop negating my excuses with logic.”

They slowly make their way up the road, walking past the path that leads to Wade’s home. Wade talks about how things have changed since Al died. How the town was going to pave the road to make it easier for her and other commuters. How there used to be a railing on the left side to help her know where to turn to enter her property. How, as they began to shun her, cruel individuals started destroying that railing, Wade having to repair it on a regular basis until after she passed on when he took it down himself to give strangers less reason to come by there and bother him.

Father Parker cannot stand hearing such awful stories about the town he will spend the rest of his life in. He reaches over and grabs Wade’s hand, more so to comfort himself than to comfort Wade. Wade pauses in his spiel about how he picked the boulder, looking over at Peter to give him a small smile. Father Parker squeezes his hand.

Father Parker catches Wade looking behind them a few times as he continues to walk and tell stories. Finally, Wade shifts his hand in Peter’s, interlocking their fingers. Father Parker immediately looks back as well then shakes his head, feeling a bit foolish. It's partially because the likelihood of anyone else being on this road is slim, and partially because he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, though he enjoys it too much to stop.

They turn off onto another dirt road, one more exposed than the path leading to Wade’s home. It doesn’t take long for the road to abruptly end, the path suddenly covered by vegetation. Several meters away are a few large rocks. One such stone, possibly too big for any individual man to move, has several smaller ones forming two lines from the larger rock. There is a plank of wood wedged into the dirt just under one of the jagged ridges of the boulder. Father Parker wants to take a better look at the engravings on the plank, but he realizes that the smaller rocks are forming the outline of Al’s grave. The best he can make out from where he stands is the word “Angels” and a large cross.

Wade then kneels down by her grave. Father Parker hears him start a prayer. He quickly follows suit. Father Parker then seamlessly transitions his prayer into the one customary for last rites. He knows it’s too late and questions whether or not being unable to participate in Viaticum really makes a difference. But deep down, Father Parker genuinely believes that the church’s refusal for her last rites is not her fault, that she should not have been deprived, and that if God is really as forgiving as is always preached, then He will not hold the church’s follies against Al.

Once he’s done praying, he hears Wade speaking softly, talking to Al. He tells her he’s still taking care of the house, trying to keep it in better condition than he inherited it before trailing off, staring down at the ground. Father Parker goes over to where Wade is kneeling and places a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure she appreciates all you’re doing for her.”

Wade looks up at Peter and smirks. Then in a mock-whisper he says, “Oh, she shouldn’t. I plan on installing stairs in front of her old bedroom. I don’t know how that’s going to work since there is no second story, but I'll just have to do it.”

Father Parker rolls his eyes as Wade turns back towards the grave. “I’m only joking! Maybe. We’ll see. But in all seriousness, I’m trying my best. I don’t want everything you did for me to be for naught. And I’m sorry… I’m sorry that I… I caused-”

“Stop.”

Wade snaps his head towards Peter. Father Parker slowly kneels down beside him.

“You need to stop talking like that.”

“But I-”

“I don’t know her, but I doubt she wanted you to blame yourself. Everything she did for you was out of love, not obligation. So, she probably doesn’t want you to carry this pain. Just keep that buried with her, and instead celebrate the time you did get to spend with her.

Wade looks towards the plank of wood at the head of her grave. “I try, but some days are hard… a lot of days actually. Though not as much recently.” Wade glances back at Father Parker, a grin playing at his lips. “Even though she constantly nagged me and called me names and hit me with her cane, I knew that she loved me. Besides, she only did all that to me because I typically had done something to provoke it.”

Both men start laughing softly.

“Never thought I could be loved again after Vanessa died, but Al changed that. It was a different type of love, but it was still something I longed for, some type of human connection that gave me purpose.”

“Still feel that way?”

“What?”

“Do you still feel that you can’t be loved? Because I certainly hope not… not since… well… I’ve-”

“What are you trying to say?”

Father Parker sits back on his heels, staring down at the grave. He takes a few deep breaths before looking back at Wade, making sure they lock eyes.

“I’m trying to say that you shouldn’t feel that way because… because I love you, Wade. You should know that by now.”

Wade opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no words come out. Quickly, he looks over to the makeshift grave marker. Father Parker should feel discouraged, but Wade looks back and forth between it and him frequently, blushing more each time.

Peter then clears his throat, prompting Wade to look at him properly once more.

“And I hope you remember that, remember what I just said… because as long as I don the robes and lead a congregation, I don’t think I can say it again.” Father Parker reaches for Wade’s hand and holds it gently in his. “Not because I don’t mean it; I do, but because it’s not the type of love a priest normally speaks of.”


	37. Jun 10, 1958

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice the chapter numbers in the info box? See that "49" there? Decided to finally update that from the "?" since I just finished drafting the rest of the story.  
> Can't wait to have the last dozen chapters beta'd so I can post them for you all.

While Wade is gone, Father Parker tends to Wade’s home and waters the plants. He isn’t sure when Wade will return, not realizing that Wade forgot to mention it until after he's already left. So, in case it is one of the longer missions, Father Parker thinks it best to keep an eye on Wade’s home.

One Tuesday in June, Father Parker picks a few flowers from the church garden. He then walks to Al’s grave, placing the flowers over it as he says a few quick prayers. One for Al, one for all those she left behind, and one for Wade to return soon and unharmed.

As he exits the road that leads to the grave, Father Parker spots someone further down the main pathway. He hastens his steps out of curiosity and soon realizes that it’s Wade. As he approaches, he realizes that Wade is walking slower, hunched in on himself drastically. Father Parker breaks into a run.

“Wade! You’re back!”

Wade stops and peeks over his shoulder. He grins at Father Parker before slowly turning around. “Father Parker! What are you doing here?”

Peter shrugs, “Just a few errands. But…” Father Parker eyes Wade suspiciously, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders seeming a bit off for some reason he cannot quite explain.

Wade reaches out with his left hand, adjusting the strap of his military bag before tucking his arm back under the blanket, wrapping it tighter around himself. “I should probably head home, set this down, and get cleaned up.”

Wade turns, hunching in on himself some more, and Father Parker quickly follows. “You’re injured, aren’t you?”

Wade shakes his head. “Now, I wouldn’t say that.”

Father Parker jogs a few steps so he can turn and face Wade directly, causing him to stop. He raises his brow at him as Wade gives him the most innocent face he can imagine.

“Really, there’s no need to fret over me. You should just get back to your priestly duties and-Woah! Stop that!”

Father Parker starts tugging at the blanket, trying to peek underneath. When Wade struggles to fight him off, Father Parker invades his space further and whispers, “I’ve seen bullet wounds and fingers growing back. If you aren’t injured like you say you are, I’m sure I can handle it.”

Wade stares wide-eyed at him. “Oh. No. It’s…” He sighs out heavily as Father Parker tries to pry open his blanket again. “Fine! Fine. Just… let’s get inside first. Trust me.”

“So, it is that bad?”

“No. Yes. I just… It might be better if you’re indoors… And sitting. Less likely to hurt yourself when you faint.”

Father Parker feels the color drain from his face. He quietly follows Wade home and struggles to figure out what could possibly make him faint if Wade isn’t really injured.

Once inside, Wade tells Peter to go and close all the blinds and draw all the curtains. Father Parker starts to make a comment, but Wade cuts him off.

“I’m serious. It rarely happens but sometimes local kids get dared to come up here and peek around. I can’t risk anyone else seeing.”

Father Parker complies and ensures all the windows are properly covered before returning to the living room and sitting on the edge of the couch. He is beginning to feel overly anxious at what the problem may be, fearing that Wade could be right, that Peter might actually faint. But his concern for Wade’s well-being is strong enough to keep him in place.

Wade had already dropped his bag in the middle of the floor and kicked off his boots while Father Parker was tending to the curtains and blinds. He is now pacing back and forth, clearly nervous.

“Are you sure-” Both men stopped talking, Father Parker breathing out a laugh.

As Wade shakes his head, Father Parker says, “I’m sure. I want to be here for you whenever possible.”

Wade smiles and says, “Remember, you’re a priest. You shouldn’t lie. So, no going back on your word!”

Father Parker rolls his eyes but then gasps as the blanket falls from Wade’s shoulder. On Wade’s right shoulder, the sleeve is ripped off, showing the mass of gauze wrapped around where his arm should be. Father Parker starts breathing heavily. He begins to mumble a prayer, one in Latin, the first to come to mind, until he realizes that trying to exorcise demons might not be the most fitting prayer in such a situation.

_But what else can I do? How is this even possible!?_

Wade throws his head back and groans, before bending over and grabbing the blanket. He throws it over his wounded shoulder and says, “I’m so sorry. I figured since you knew everything and saw the fingers, you might-”

“How can you say you’re not injured!” Father Parker shouts, standing up. “Talking to me about lying when you said you’re not injured, but you’re missing an entire limb!” Peter ends his shout by clasping a hand over his mouth, suddenly feeling nauseated.

Wade holds up his only hand in defense. “Hey! An injury is like a cut or abrasion. I wouldn’t consider a chopped off limb an injury. It’s actually far worse.”

Father Parker stutters over a few rebuttals but gives up. At this point, he knows Wade well enough to believe that Wade won't allow him to argue his point further; he knows he's made a valid point against Peter. Father Parker runs his hands through his hair, too stressed to think clearly. He paces a little, Wade watching his every movement. Wade gives him a terrified look when Father Parker suddenly turns, marching straight towards him. He closely examines the gauze and Wade’s shoulder, simply looking at it but not touching it.

“You had to wrap it up yourself, right?”

Wade nods.

Father Parker assesses the rest of the state Wade’s in before saying, “We’re getting you cleaned up. Go draw a bath.”

“I’m fine. I hardly think it’s necessary to-”

Father Parker drags a finger across Wade’s bandages, a loose piece of gauze following his hand. He brings up the edge to show Wade all the dust and clay that it has managed to pick up since Wade trekked home. “It’s going to take me a lot of prayer and maybe a quick trip outside for some fresh air, but I really think you’re going to need a few extra hands to get this properly tended to so you can heal.”

“How dare you mention extra hands when you know I only have one! Do you talk about having parents when you go volunteer at the orphanage?”

Father Parker gives him an unamused stare before he turns away, heading for the front door. “I’ll be right back. Go get in that bath. NOW.”

Wade rolls his eyes, dropping the blanket on the floor as he heads towards the bathroom. He runs the hot water and starts getting undressed, struggling a bit with the buttons on his pants. Once all his clothes are off and kicked to the side, Wade carefully moves to step into the tub. He’s just managed to step inside and is now slowly lowering himself into the water when the bathroom door swings open.

Wade flails as he falls into the tub, a string of profane words slipping from his lips as he knocks his elbow on the edge of the tub. Father Parker freezes in place, clutching Wade’s medical bag and some towels to his chest. “I beg pardon!?”

Wade splashes some more, water sloshing out of the tub as he fumbles to curl up, bringing his knees to his chin. “You heard me, and I refuse to apologize until my next confession!”

Father Parker gives him a weird look.

“What are you doing here?”

Peter makes an awkward gesture with the items in his arms. “To help you, obviously. I thought that much was clear.”

Wade eyes him for a moment as Father Parker starts setting all the supplies down, trying to balance them on the edge of the sink. A wicked grin appears on Wade's face. “Oh, I see… You’re being pretty forward, aren’t you?”

“Forward? What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe you’re really that eager to see me naked.”

Father Parker spins around so fast, he flings the medical bag halfway across the bathroom. “I assure you, that’s not the case!”

Wade resists the urge to point out how Father Parker’s eyes have darted down and how red his ears have become. Instead he says, “I must warn you though… You’ve already seen me without my shirt. So you can imagine what the rest looks like…” Wade grins at the way the blush spreads across Father Parker’s face and neck.

Peter pointedly looks away as he goes to retrieve the medical bag. “To be honest, I really don’t mind.” Father Parker peeks back at Wade, whose grin is now replaced by a mildly shocked expression. “You should lower your knees so your legs can soak properly.

“But I’m shy,” Wade mumbles, causing Father Parker to breathe out a chuckle. It is the first time he has relaxed since walking into the bathroom, realizing the hard way that helping Wade get cleaned up is only setting himself up for torture.

“Be that as it may, you’re still injured and that takes priority. Besides, I don’t see how you can do all this yourself with just one arm… for the moment…”

“Fine!” Wade says, finding himself wishing that there was a different circumstance to make Father Parker behave this way. He slowly lowers one leg, using his hand to help cover himself.

Father Parker turns back to the sink as he rolls up his sleeves, attempting to give Wade a few more seconds of privacy and himself a chance to stop flushing. But as he glances down at the medical bag, he can’t help but mumble, “I wish you could find some other way to help war victims without any more death or injury.”

“There was no death.”

“What?” Father Parker asks as he heads to the tub.

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

Peter considers this for a moment as he stares at Wade’s shoulder. “As much as I would like to commend you for that… your arm…”

Wade shrugs his one good shoulder. “I mean, this is temporary. Death isn’t. I got this in lieu of dying.”

Father Parker gapes at him for a moment before Wade speaks again. “I promised you I’ll always come home.”

Grinning despite himself, Father Parker wipes a towel across the edge of the tub before sitting down. He stares at Wade for a moment trying to figure out where to begin. “I suppose we should remove this,” Father Parker says, reaching over towards the gauze. Wade jerks back, away from Peter’s reach. “I need to-”

“I know, I know, but… You’re going to come to a point where it’s just a lumpy patch at the joint of my shoulder. Leave it; trust me. You won’t want to remove it.”

Father Parker flashes back to the sight of Wade’s fingers, his mind suddenly trying to process how a regenerating arm will look. He shakes his head and rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palms to rid himself of the image. “Alright, I trust you. I’ll stop when you tell me to.”

Wade gives him a considering look before sitting up properly again. Father Parker slowly unwraps the bandages from around Wade. Soon, he starts asking Wade if that is enough after each piece is removed. Eventually, Wade starts screaming “Stop, stop, stop!” and Peter obliges.

Father Parker then maneuvers himself to sit on the edge of the tub behind Wade, telling him to lean forward a little. Wade scoots up, letting his other leg dip below the water in the process. He feels a damp cloth across his back and arches slightly into the touch. The more Father Parker scrubs at his back, shoulders, and neck, the more Wade feels his body reacting.

_This isn’t the first time he’s helped me, and hopefully not the last. So why am I… Oh, this is embarrassing. I should tell him to leave, that I-_

“Sit up, will you?” Father Parker asks quietly as he scoots back to his original perch on the side of the tub. Before Wade can question him, Father Parker begins dabbing the cloth at his chest, slowly working his way up to his neck. Wade sits straighter, keeping his palm firmly over the growing erection that he is struggling to keep trapped between his thighs. “I’ll get your face later after we change out the water.”

“Change out the- why?”

Father Parker gives him a blank stare before jerking his head towards the water, now filthy from all the grime that was on Wade.

“Oh. Right.” Wade suddenly realizes that he can use conversation to distract himself. “So, you seem okay with all the blood and whatnot, but not everything else. Where do you draw the line?”

“I’m used to blood,” Father Parker says quietly. “I hate it, but I started to become numb to it when I volunteered at the make-shift hospitals during the war. I’m used to seeing all sorts of war-related wounds, but I never had a patient that healed before my eyes or re-grew body parts.”

“Ah, fair. So you draw the line at Nazi-experimentation-induced-” Wade flails as Father Parker grabs his arm out of the water, scrubbing aggresively at it with the washcloth. Wade attempts to cover himself again, but groans inwardly when he remembers he can’t because his only arm is being held hostage by an overly concerned priest. Wade pinches his thighs close tighter and tries to angle his hips away from Peter, hoping it will be enough for him to avoid seeing it.

Once Father Parker finishes cleaning Wade’s arm, he quickly ducks it back underwater to cover himself. In doing so, he splashes Peter.

Father Parker looks down at his shirt and frowns. He then shrugs as he stands, saying, “It’s not that bad, I suppose. Now let's get this water changed out.”

Wade turns over, using the side of the tub to cover himself as he hangs off the edge. Father Parker gives him an annoyed look since Wade’s sudden gesture has caused him to become even more soaked.

Nodding fervently, Wade says, “I really think I got it from here.”

“Good. Then change the water yourself while I go hang my shirt.”

Before Wade can protest, Father Parker exits the bathroom, leaving the door open. Wade stares after him for a moment before rushing to change the water out while also grabbing one of the towels. Wade only struggles a little bit against the edge of the sink to help him wrap it around his waist and quickly sits back in the tub as it fills back up, the towel still wrapped around him for modesty's sake.

Father Parker returns, now with no shirt, shoes or socks, and carrying a change of clothes for Wade.

_Oh, praise the Lord for towels because I don’t think I’m going to survive this._

Father Parker resumes cleaning Wade, only pausing to ask him about the towel.

“I figured I could do some laundry at the same time.”

Father Parker rolls his eyes as he starts gently washing Wade’s face, carefully wiping at it with a corner of the washcloth. With both their current state of undress and Father Parker’s face so close to his, Wade is struggling to hold himself back. Once Father Parker is satisfied that he's gotten Wade sufficiently clean, though he stopped at the top of the towel wrapped around Wade, he says, “Since you keep insisting, I’ll let you finish the rest yourself, but I’m going to get changed and make us some coffee.”

Wade nods and immediately starts scrubbing at his legs.

When Wade manages to finish, he drys himself off to the best of his ability and gives up getting dressed after struggling to put on pants. Exhausted, he makes his way into the living room.

He sees Father Parker sitting on a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace, his clothes hanging next to it to dry. The insert for his collar is laying on the mantel. Father Parker looks up at him when he enters, smiling warmly. Gingerly, he scoots over on the blanket before gesturing for Wade to come join him. Wade happily obliges, reaching down to pick up the mug of coffee set out for him on the edge of the hearth. He sits there and stares at Father Parker, grinning broadly and not saying a word. Eventually Peter turns to him and says, “What are you doing?”

“Oh… nothing,” Wade mumbles, turning to take a sip of his coffee while smirking into his cup. “Just wondering when you started feeling comfortable enough around here to start pilfering through my closet. I mean, that shirt is a little loose on me, but on you? Well.... maybe you’ll grow into it.”

Peter doesn’t dignify the comment with a response, but he does tug on the Henley’s collar to better cover his shoulders before scooting closer to Wade.

They sit and watch the fire with Father Parker resting his head on Wade’s good shoulder, only moving when he sips his coffee. After a long moment of comfortable silence, Father Parker sits up and whispers, “Do you always find baths that arousing?”

Wade turns his head, seeing him smirking over the rim his cup before taking a sip. As soon as Father Parker lowers the mug he says, “Is it a common thing or-”

Wade leans in and kisses him hard, but as soon as he pulls back, Peter resumes teasing him. Wade tries to kiss him a few more times before Peter finally says, “You know kissing me is not going to work. I’m just going to keep asking until-”

As Peter speaks, Wade sets his own cup down roughly then grabs Peter’s to repeat the action. He's barely managed to get Peter to stop talking when he pulls Father Parker against himself, lying them back on the wooden floorboards with Peter on top of him. Father Parker simply grins at him, no longer in the mood to tease about what he saw in the bathtub. Instead, he leans towards Wade's face, gently kissing him. Wade grins into the kiss before swiping his tongue against Father Parker’s bottom lip without missing a beat. He does it once more, and Father Parker parts his mouth slightly, allowing Wade to deepen the kiss. As Peter goes back to giving him soft and gentle pecks, Wade’s hand wanders down Father Parker’s body. Eventually Wade tries to deepen the kiss again by parting his own lips. As soon as Peter reciprocates, Wade slips his hand under the oversized Henley shirt Peter's wearing to trail his fingertips up his spine. Father Parker shifts his weight as he moans into the kiss. Wade can now feel how aroused Peter is. He pauses momentarily, smirking pleased at the thought of Father Parker becoming so pliable after only a couple of minutes of kissing.

_I can’t call him out on it though. My situation was clearly worse, but I can…_

Wade kisses him longer, making sure each kiss is a bit more chaste than the last, until he's barely pecking Peter on the lips. He pulls back saying, “You know… Al’s had to help me bathe a few times before.”

Father Parker gives him a confused look before he catches on, smirking. “Oh, did you enjoy that too?”

“Well… I only got hard for her exactly this many times.”

Father Parker stares at Wade for a moment, confused at how he's phrased his answer. “What?”

“This many. See my fingers?” That's when he feels Wade twitch faintly beneath him.

Peter is about to ask for further clarification when he realizes that Wade isn’t just fidgeting, he is trying to move his shoulder, the one without an arm, to indicate zero fingers. Father Parker groans loudly as he buries his face in the crook of Wade’s neck. “Whatever happened to shy Wade, the one that was super formal and did not have a morbid sense of humor?”

Wade slides his hand off Peter’s back. He touches Father Peter’s cheek, pushing against it slightly until Peter sits up, looking at Wade again. Without saying anything, Wade leans in and kisses him tenderly. “Shy Wade met someone who was worth it, someone worth being around, worth being honest with, someone who made him feel comfortable in his own skin, everything… so he left, and the real Wade returned.”

Father Parker feels himself blushing, wondering how many times Wade can do this to him in one day. He peppers Wade’s face with slow, soft kisses. Eventually, Wade holds him tighter and whispers, “Stay the night.”

Father Parker kisses him twice more before leaning his head back, saying, “I am only going to stay as long as it takes for my clothes to dry.”

Wade stares at him before reaching for one of the coffee cups.

Father Parker slides half off of Wade as he moves and rushes to slam Wade's hand back down on the hardwood floor, causing some of the coffee to spill out. He stares incredulously at Wade.

_Well, now I know all that splashing he did in the tub was probably on purpose._

“I can’t believe you seriously thought to-”

Wade jerks his wrist out from Father Parker’s grip, raising it in defense. “I was only joking! I wasn’t going to do it, really!”

Father Parker gives him a disbelieving look as he removes himself from Wade, opting to sit next to him on the floor. Wade’s smirk falters as he reaches up slowly, caressing Peter’s face.

“You seriously don’t think you can stay?”

“You know I adore you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. Besides, I think I need a little time…”

“Oh,” Wade says dejectedly. “I just thought that with all the…” Wade gestures between their lips.

“No! I didn’t mean… it’s… I’m sorry, but I’m still having an internal battle over the whole-” Father Parker jerks his head towards Wade’s other shoulder.

“You don’t want to be here as I heal?” Wade teases. “No, that’s fine. I understand, honest. But it does hurt when it grows back, and I figured you could massage it for me.”

When Father Parker made an involuntary gagging sound, clasping a hand over his mouth, Wade sits up quickly. “I’m sorry! It’s a joke! I mean, it does hurt like hell, but I wasn’t really going to make you… I’m so sorry.”

Father Parker slowly removes his hand from his mouth, sighing heavily. “How about we just work our way up to that.”

Wade nods animatedly, pleased that Father Parker did not directly say ‘no’ to his massage joke.

“But for now…” Father Parker reaches over, feeling the cuff of his shirt hanging by the fire before turning back and leaning closer to Wade. “I think it’s going to take a few more minutes until it’s dried.”


	38. Jun 12-20, 1958

Much to Father Parker’s surprise, Wade has grown his arm back two days later. However, as he checks on it, he realizes that it still seems off. The scarring on it looks quite different than the rest of his body, and the size does not seem right. Peter can’t tell if it is just his imagination or if it really is smaller than his other arm. As Peter traces a finger along the edge of the scar that runs around his shoulder, he asks Wade about it.

“Ah, nothing. It always does that when I lose something. Has a little growth ring of sorts, but that will fade within a day or two after that part completely regrows.”

Peter slowly lifts Wade’s arm, still tracing the scar with his other hand as he steps behind Wade. His fingers eventually reach Wade’s armpit, who immediately hisses and jerks away. Father Parker stands there flabbergasted, his fingers still poised to continue following the scar.

“Sorry. It’s just… It can be a bit sensitive at times, nerve issues and all that.”

“I’m so sor-”

“No, no, it’s fine. It was an accident. I think your nail scraped it a bit, that’s all. It’s not that serious.”

Wade brushes off Peter’s next attempt to apologize, so Peter decides to move on with the topic. “What are you going to do about it?” he asks, gesturing towards Wade’s arm.

At that moment, Wade stands from his seat at his kitchen table and heads towards the couch. Peter hesitates to follow until Wade starts to reply. “What do you mean? This is just how it is. Like I said, it’s not that serious.”

Father Parker watches as Wade plops himself down on the couch roughly, but only moves to stand in front of him instead of taking a seat beside Wade. “I meant what are you going to do about your arm in general. Can you work today or-?”

Wade shifts on the couch before pulling Father Parker down onto his lap with his good arm. He examines his right, turning it and flexing it. “Eh, might be best if I don’t.”

“Hmm?” Father Parker hums, trying to steady his heart after unexpectedly being pulled so close to Wade.

“I mean, it’s not completely noticeable to me, but it might be for someone else. I don’t want to risk it. There are still several people in this town that think I’m an abomination of God, so if they see me growing an arm…”

“It will just confirm their biases for them.”

“What about you? Would you have thought me an abomination if you saw me healing like this prior to knowing me?”

Father Parker knows his answer immediately, and he does not like it. Instead of replying, he slides off of Wade's lap and goes to look at the curiosities decorating his mantle, deftly deflecting the question with one of his own. “So what are you going to do today if not work? Just find ways to occupy yourself inside your home?”

“Nah. That makes me feel like I’m hiding or am stuck in here, and I feel like that most of my life already. I’m itching to go out, so I might. Just not to town. Probably wander somewhere beyond the mountains.”

Father Parker thinks about that for a moment before he whispers out, “I wonder what’s beyond the mountains.”

“The start of forever.” Father Parker turns and quirks an eyebrow at Wade. “I know that sounds overly glib, but it’s the truth. I’ve been exploring the world—well, at least Europe—for a good portion of my life, whether it was intentional, part of the job, or what have you. And the thing is, no matter how far you go, how much you explore, there never seems to be an end. You may think that you’ve found the end, but it's usually just a pause or a turn. So out there, beyond all those hills that fence in our town, is the start of a journey one can never finish.”

Father Parker smiles warmly at him. “That does sound amazing, and I wouldn’t mind testing that theory one day, but for now… I want to go out there and explore just long enough to forget about my duties for a day and still make it home in time for dinner.”

“Do you want to do that?”

“Do what? Wait… you mean…”

“Yeah! We can go right now! I think I know of a place you won’t be able to resist.” Wade smirks at him.

_Only the devil tempts like that… but then again… I am only human._

Wade leads Father Parker through some winding trails that go around the town, some paved, some most likely made by himself after years of trekking just outside of its boundaries. He explains that there’s a more direct path, but he doesn’t want to risk it with his arm. At one fork in the road, Wade points out where each path leads. The big dirt road is one of the main ones out of the town to the northwestern side of the mountains. The little path to the right continues to circle around, eventually weaving through the hills. And the path that Father Parker did not notice because of the overgrown shrubs, that is the path they are taking next.

Father Parker is still highly curious about their destination but soon realizes the hard way that he doesn’t walk around much, at least not enough for a trek such as this. As much as he wants to see this surprise destination Wade refuses to say anything about, his weariness soon forces him to ask, “So how much further?”

Wade jogs ahead and somehow manages to step down into some bushes along the edge of the trail. Father Parker rushes to catch up and see what he is doing only to find that there are wooden planks just behind the shrubs, forming steps leading down into the thicket.

“We’re here!”

Father Parker gives him a confused look then glances up past the thick brush and trees. He stands there astounded that he didn’t realize this has been just past his view along the trail the whole time. Peter quickly rushes down the makeshift stairs, ignoring Wade’s protests to be careful. He doesn’t stop until he’s a couple meters from the base of the steps, standing right on the edge of the biggest field of wildflowers he has ever seen in his life.

Wade slowly walks up beside him and whispers, “So do you like it?”

Father Parker can only nod.

Wade then takes the time to lead Father Parker around the field, eventually coming to a stone path that cuts through it. When Father Parker asks about it, Wade explains that he placed it there himself. Peter stares at him in amazement.

“But why?”

Wade grins over his shoulder at Peter. “I used to live around here.”

Wade slowly takes Father Parker around and through the wildflower field, explaining what lies beyond it in every direction. Further down the hill is a stream. A farmer used to use the water from there for his tiny vineyard. Most of the vines have died off because of neglect and poor soil, but there’s a small section that’s still thriving, and Wade sometimes goes to pick a bundle of grapes now and then. On the opposite side are some ruins that Wade explains are his old one room cabin that he stayed in before moving in with Al. Wade picked that location because of the stream and the rabbits in the field, but then found himself unable to do any trapping in such a beautiful place.

Eventually, they make their way back towards the stairs. As they walk, they bump hands and shoulders. Wade’s want only grows. However, he is not sure if Father Parker is okay with being touched out in the open like this, not after all his previous rejections. He has half a mind to ask outright when Father Parker slips his hand into Wade’s. Trying to walk a little slower to make it last longer, Wade finds himself only wanting more. At one point he leans over, fully intent on kissing Peter, but pauses, kissing him on the temple instead.

Father Parker stares wide-eyed at him for a moment, but as the blush spreads across his cheeks, a smile creeps onto his face as well. Wade takes that as a sign that he hasn’t pushed any boundaries.

Once they make it to the top of the stairs, Father Parker lets go of Wade’s hand. They walk the path back towards the main road with more distance between them. When they get to the familiar fork in the road, Wade tells Father Parker to continue to the right, that it will turn suddenly, but he will recognize where he’s at. Before Wade leaves to take his own indirect path home, on the pretense of avoiding the townsfolk, he hesitantly pulls Father Parker in for a hug. As soon as he releases him, Wade darts down his own path just as Peter starts to return the embrace.

Father Parker watches him leave, shaking his head.

Two days later, there is a volunteer project at one of the local cafes to install a covered patio so they can accommodate more customers when the back portion of the café is being used for meetings. Wade has agreed to help, but first he wants to finally pay his respects to Mrs. Beaumont.

Wade walks up to the rectory right as Father Parker exits. He shouts, “One moment!” at the priest before rushing through the garden.

“Are you getting some flowers for her?” Father Parker says when he notices Wade passing all the vegetables and herbs.

“Yes! I am!” Wade replies through gritted teeth.

Father Parker takes a few steps closer to see what Wade is struggling with.

“GOT IT!” Wade shouts cheerily as he pulls up an entire flowering bush, roots and all, dirt splattering to the ground as he stands. Father Parker gasps at the sight, ready to berate him, when Wade shrugs and says, “She’d appreciate this. It makes it feel like it’s really from me and not some other average person.”

Father Parker shakes his head and leads Wade to the cemetery, silently praying that no one sees him carrying an entire bush. When they make it to her gravesite, Wade kneels down, pulls out a knife from his overalls, and starts digging a little hole in the ground to plant the flowering bush.

“You could have just told me you had intended on replanting that by her grave.”

Wade smirks up at Father Parker as he fills the sides of the hole back in with dirt. “And miss your priceless reaction!? I think not!”

Once done, Wade stands, wiping the dirt off his hands and onto his overalls. He pauses as Father Parker hands him an envelope, taking it from him hesitantly. He flips it over to find ‘Mr. Wilson – please keep these safe!’ scrawled on the front, but it’s not Father Parker’s handwriting. He quirks a brow at Peter as he opens it.

From inside, Wade pulls out a small stack of recipe cards. Father Parker says, “We found that on her kitchen table. Since it is addressed to you, we figured it didn’t belong in the estate sale. It is yours to take. Besides, one of her sons didn’t see the point in arguing over recipe cards and-”

“Well, he’s an idiot, and Mrs. Beaumont can attest to that,” Wade says with a shaky voice as he flips through the cards. Father Parker peeks over his shoulder and notices that some of the cards looked new, no stains and the paper is not yet yellowed.

“I see she threw in some new recipes,” Father Parker comments as he points to one of the newer cards.

Wade shook his head. “No. I know this one. She said it was her grandmother’s recipe, the first one she ever learned just by doing, no recipe card. She must have written it down just for me.”

Wade sticks the cards back into the envelope before waving it towards the grave, a small gesture of thanks to Mrs. Beaumont. As he pockets the envelope, his hand bumps into Father Parker’s, prompting him to take a small step to the side.

But as Wade continues to thank Mrs. Beaumont and says his final words to her, he steps closer to Father Parker, his hand briefly brushing against his until he links their pinkies. Father Parker allows this given Wade’s current emotional state. He also steps closer, hoping to better hide where their hands are joined, all while glancing around nervously. The position is awkward, so Father Parker works to readjust his hold on Wade’s hand. When he hears Wade get a little choked up, he squeezes his hand gently and leans in, bumping his shoulder into Wade’s arm. Sniffing loudly, Wade looks over at Peter with a soft smile.

Once he says his final words along with a small prayer, Wade thanks Father Parker for coming with him. He then heads back to the volunteer site, but not before asking Peter if he’ll be by later.

Father Parker thinks about it and how sad Wade currently looks before deciding he can make an appearance to check on him later. “I have some things to do right now, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Wade smiles at him and leaves.

Father Parker hears a few confessions, reviews his homily for tomorrow, and then writes to the clergy of the diocese he’s stationed under. He tosses that haphazardly into the outgoing mail bin, wondering when the need for letters will stop.

_They have been a little less frequent. Not remarkably less though. But the fact I still have to send in so many personal reports and answer so many questions…_

_Will I forever be under their eyes of judgment?_

Father Parker then wonders if he should go to check on Wade. He shakes his head roughly, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts of living in fear for the rest of his life. Peter hurries out of his office after realizing he is letting these check-ins foul his mood and cause paranoia. He forces himself not to dwell on the extent of his sentence as he makes his way to the café.

As soon as he gets there, the volunteers cheer, confusing him. Wade jogs up to him and explains, “We need one more man for the next part, so you showed up just in time!”

Father Parker rolls up his sleeves and makes his way to the beam he was asked to hold up and keep steady. Three other men are holding up other beams, while Wade steadies the giant plank that will go on top as the last two men secure everything else in place. There is a lot of yelling as everything keeps having to be adjusted, but finally all the men find the exact place they need to be. Unfortunately, this means Wade is standing directly behind Father Parker. As the men begin securing everything where it will go, Wade presses up against Peter, causing one of his hands to slide down on the wooden beam. The wood itself does not budge, but Wade notices the slip of his hand.

“You have to keep it steady there, Father. I know it’s heavy, but you need to harness that Samson-like strength.”

A few of the men chuckle at his joke, but Father Parker struggles to do so.

_If I ever had such a strength, it would no longer matter, because you are certainly my Delilah._

Once the beams are secured in place, Wade removes himself from behind Father Parker, but not before brushing his hand against him for a briefest of moments; the move is clearly done on purpose.

As the rest of the men ready the next part, Father Parker pulls Wade aside, taking him around the corner of the next building into a deserted alley. He stares at him sternly as he says, “Wade, there’s a time and place for certain things. You need to know the proper time and place for-”

“I know of a place we could-”

“WADE! Need I remind you why I’m here in this town and not back in the city? Why I was sent here _as punishment_?” Peter suddenly sees the letters in his mind and knows that part of his outrage is stemming from them, but he also can’t help but feel that he still needs to exude a healthy amount of caution.

_This is my last chance, after all. I don’t even want to know what may happen to me if I ruin things again._

Wade sighs heavily as he reaches for Father Parker’s waist. “Peter, come on, it’s-”

“No!” Father Parker looks around frantically before dropping his voice. “I was in a fairly progressive city, yet I was almost beaten at the altar. This is a much smaller town. They may actually follow through with their threats here, or even worse than beatings if we are caught. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Father Parker can feel his pulse quicken; he hopes that Wade replies promptly so they can end this conversation and get back. However, Wade gives no reply, only offering him a sad look instead, one that breaks something inside of Peter.

With a sharp intake of breath, Peter clenches both of his hands into fists, suddenly unsure of how to manage the rush of anger and sadness overwhelming him all at once. He slams the side of his fist into the wall next to him. His hiss of pain immediately turns into a dry sob.

“Peter, what’s… what’s going on?”

Peter begins pacing back and forth in front of Wade as he rubs at his sore hand. “I don’t get it! I just don’t understand! How… How… How I was led to the ministry, how God made it my calling. I _know_ it’s my calling, it has to be, God willed it so. Yet! Oh, yet, the Almighty must have some twisted sense of humor because He also made me the way I am, _all in His image_ supposedly. But according to the church, someone like me shouldn’t exist and therefore I-”

“How can you believe in a god that doesn’t think you should exist?”

Peter stills for a moment, unsure of how to answer that. He’s asked himself that same question before, in various ways, along with why he is the way he is, but he can never seem to figure out the answer. In the past, he'd just chosen to blindly believe. His sexuality he'd chalked up to being nothing more than a tribulation he must endure and overcome. That was years ago. Now though, it feels more like a natural part of himself. He doesn’t see why a God so loving could have created him this way if it really is a sin.

Wade, after waiting too long for an answer, quietly says, “Sorry... I shouldn’t have asked that. I just… I honestly forget sometimes that you’re a priest.”

Peter spins on the spot and looks sternly at Wade. “That certainly worsens the situation, but regardless of title… NO! We can’t!”

Wade is clearly confused as he opens and closes his mouth, struggling to figure out where to even start. Finally, he settles on, “All this time, I thought it was just you, priest and all, showing signs of affection. It’s perfectly natural, even if it’s towards someone as _unnatural_ as me. I mean, this is France we’re talking about. It’s not like other countries with laws against homosexuality. In fact, there are laws here to protect people against such discrimination. But the church-”

“-is not France. They have their own laws, laws I must abide by, and they say that it’s wrong. That _I’m_ wrong.”

“What laws are you talking about? The ‘man must not lay with another man’ one? Because I do believe that falls under the old laws, which you yourself have preached on, saying we are no longer bound by them after the sacrifice on Calvary.”

Father Parker narrows his eyes at Wade, prompting him to raise his hands in defense, though his voice is far from complacent.

“Don’t you dare give me that look!” Wade snarls back after a moment. “You’re the one acting one way then berating _me_ for doing the same! So much for leading by example! And back to the _laws_ you claim to be bound by, yet none of the other clergy seem to stick to so rigidly, you only cite them when it’s convenient for you-”

“That’s because they aren't the ones who have screwed up! _I’m_ the one that-”

“YOU DID NOTHING WRONG!” Wade shouts over Peter’s protests. With a heavy sigh, he lowers to a more normal register, pacing around much like Peter had done before but slower. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, I only… nevermind. The point is, the laws you’re so focused on are the ones made by the church, by men. The only laws that you should be fretting over are the ones in the Book. However… The old laws are just that, old laws. And while the new laws mention things like sexual depravity, who’s to say what that is. It’s an incomplete record of their ideologies and legacy, not some code book of rules and regulations complete with typical sentencing for misdemeanors.”

Peter smirks. “That’s because there are no misdemeanors. All sins are punishable by the same sentence: eternal death.”

Wade calms down and stills. He quietly asks, “Now what?” it sounds like he fully expects Peter to withdraw back into himself, to pretend there is nothing between them. He quietly prays that he doesn’t go so far as to cut ties with Wade completely.

Peter places a hand on Wade’s cheek. “Just… remember your place, remember my job. We are in France, but this little village of ours, they follow the rules of the stone casters. One wrong move and we become… not martyrs… but a warning to others that don’t fit their mold.”

Wade nods and shifts his head, causing Peter’s hand to fall away. Peter frowns but then realizes why Wade did it, a smile creeping in. Wade mirrors it before sliding back towards the road and peeking out of the alley. He turns back to Peter and says, “Well… there are no stone casters around right now…”

“WADE WILSON, I SWEAR!” Father Parker raises his hand, his thumb and index finger pinched together. “I’m _this_ close to testing if you really can’t die.” Peter brushes past Wade and storms off down the road, muttering out a refusal to continue helping with the volunteer project in his current state.

Wade has a moment of regret for annoying Peter so soon after a fight, but his guilt soon turns into laughter. There is still a lot to process about what Peter has said today. Wade has not realized just how bad the dissonance is for him until now, and he doesn’t feel good about having raised his voice at Peter. Yet, Wade can’t help but smile. They’ve bickered before, over little things such as the meaning of scripture, Wade getting too close to Peter with the water hose, and other trivial things. But this fight, their first major fight, it makes Wade feel-

_Real. Like I have something to stand for, somebody to stand for. It’s like what I had with Vanessa before my life went to shit._

_I don’t even bother fighting with the bigots in town, even with all the opportunities they give me. Doesn’t seem worth it, not for me at least. But this is something I care about, and clearly, he cares about it too. Now if only we can get on the same page._

Later that evening, Wade stops by the rectory to apologize for his behavior earlier in the day, which Father Parker just brushes off as he welcomes Wade into his home. “No, no, I should be the one to apologize. I was scared and angry, mainly at the church, and I took it out on you over something we haven’t really talked about.”

As Peter leads Wade into the kitchen, Wade sighs heavily and says, “Peter, come on now. We’re good. I just… I kept getting a little careless with the boundaries because I’m still not sure where exactly those boundaries are. So if you just let me know flat out what I can and can’t do…”

“As long as the community or the church is involved, _we_ are not involved. Though, I can’t pose any objections as long as we are in the comfort of one of our homes, if that makes sense. Wait, where are my manners! Do have a seat!”

Wade looks around for a moment, suddenly realizing they’re still standing in the kitchen. Father Parker gestures to the dining table before heading towards the cabinets, but instead of sitting down, Wade follows him. He gently places a hand on the small of Peter’s back, causing him to pause as he closes the cabinet door. “So we can continue to work together, have dinners together, and everything else, but no touching if it’s outside or in the church?”

Father Parker nods as he turns around. “That’s right. Just be careful.”

Wade nods, leaning in closer. “But… here’s fine, right?”

Father Parker nods slightly before leaning over and kissing Wade briefly. Wade pulls him back in, running a hand through Peter’s hair as he moves his lips slowly and deliberately. He eventually pulls away and says, “I think you should know that there was another reason I kept overstepping those boundaries.”

“Oh, why’s that?” Peter asks after stretching upwards to give Wade a peck on his nose.

“I find it hard to hold back around you. I have for quite some time now.” He gently kisses Father Parker on both cheeks before continuing. “But, I love you, and I know you won’t say it again, and I’ll respect that by doing the same. I just felt that I needed to do what you did, let you know, let you hear it even if only once.” Wade tries to close the distance between their mouths again, but ends up laughing against his lips.

“What?” Peter murmurs, still trying to kiss a giggling Wade.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… it feels good to actually say it outloud and to you. I’ve been thinking about it for so long.”

“Since we visited Al’s grave?”

“That might be how long _you_ have been thinking about it. The idea of loving you started creeping into my mind when you tried to show your _neighborly love_ by buying me new plates, but it didn’t take root until later. I tried to get past it, but then you… that night you found out about, well, my body…”

Peter groans loudly and buries his face into Wade’s chest. “Waaade. Please. That kiss!? I told you to forget about-”

“Why are you so embarrassed? We just did it a dozen more times in these past few minutes! I mean, yes, that first one was probably our most uncomfortable and wettest one with all the crying and what not, but still… I don’t regret it. But I wasn’t talking about that kiss.”

Father Parker just groans into Wade’s chest again, prompting him to wrap his arms around him tighter.

“I was actually talking about how you were trying your best to understand and accept me the way I am.”

Wade pulls back slightly and tilts Peter's chin up with one hand. Father Parker grins before grabbing Wade by the face, standing on his toes to give Wade one last hard kiss. Wade quickly reciprocates before peppering Peter’s face with hasty pecks until Peter finally manages to squirm out of Wade’s arms.

Wade gives him a goofy grin before checking the clock on the wall. “I should probably head home for tonight. You do have service in the morning.”

Father Parker hears a small voice inside him ready to beg Wade to stay just a moment longer, but he resists knowing that he has already bent and broken too many rules for the day. He bids Wade a good night, a bit distracted as he thinks about all those broken rules. It's only now he realizes that any remorse he's felt over them is minimal now.

For the next week, Wade is more cautious about his interactions with Father Parker. They keep all their meetings strictly professional and any other interactions in public are completely hands off. The behaviors themselves are much like their first year of knowing each other, but the feelings behind them are different. Wade no longer struggles with his urges, knowing that once they’re alone together, he can allow his hands to wander as much he pleases, and Father Parker does not seem to mind as long as they stay above the belt. Still, Wade does test to see if Peter will swat his hands away if they drift too far down, and so far the answer is always yes.


	39. Jun 22-25, 1958

Previously, Wade viewed his life in two separate parts: his mercenary life and his life in town. But now he has a third: his life with Peter, and Wade is starting to realize these lives are not as disconnected as he once thought.

One Sunday, Wade finds himself struggling to focus on the homily. He wants to pay attention, but his mind keeps wandering. At first, he blames it on already knowing the message since he helped Father Parker proofread it the night before. But as the thoughts keep creeping in, he realizes they are a bit too sordid for church. He can’t focus on Father Parker’s preaching, not when he’s thinking about other uses for that mouth.

Wade spends the rest of the service struggling to figure out his feelings. Since he started being more open with Father Parker, he feels that his life is improving. Any guilt he's felt will ebb and flow depending on the day and situation, but it has never been enough to cause concern until now. Now though, he feels that all of those worries have built up into this one moment. The carnal side of him wants more of Peter, enough so that it feels like sin. The side of him is still trying to repent for his other life, however, struggles with the additional sins he’s been adding to his already overflowing pile.

Wade, not sure of what all this means and how to rid himself of these guilty thoughts and feelings, decides to go to the rectory after church to talk to Father Parker.

When Peter opens the door, he immediately drags Wade inside, kissing him gently. Wade runs a hand through Peter’s hair as he kisses him back, suddenly blanking on why he is there again.

Father Parker pulls back, heading to the kitchen. “I was about to make lunch if you want to join me.”

Wade follows him into the kitchen but doesn’t respond to Father Parker’s question. Peter turns and cocks his head to the side, asking, “Was this not an informal visit? Did you… did you need something?”

Wade closes the distance between them, mumbling, “You.”

Father Parker smirks at him, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him closer.

Wade picks him up, immediately sitting him on the edge of the kitchen counter with Peter’s legs dangling on either side of Wade. He keeps his hands on Peter’s thighs as he leans in and kisses Father Parker slowly, tenderly, grinning slightly after each kiss. Suddenly, Father Parker pulls back, gasping.

“Get the windows,” he breathes out.

It takes Wade a moment to understand, but when he finally catches on, he rushes to close the curtains of every window nearby. He even makes a spectacle of attempting to check the front door. Father Parker laughs at him when he almost falls down,scrambling back and tripping on the doorframe into the kitchen. When Wade returns, he pulls Peter closer to the edge of the counter, making him lean up against Wade. Peter tries to give him another chaste kiss, but Wade wants more, nipping at Peter's bottom lip before swiping his tongue across it. With Wade’s desperate need now apparent, Peter wraps his arms around Wade’s neck, deepening their kiss. Wade’s hands move from Peter’s hips towards his back, pulling him as close as possible, enjoying the warm feel of his favorite person pressed against him.

Wade slides a hand down Peter’s body, across his thigh, then slowly moves it around Peter’s leg to grab him by the back of the knee. He tries to lift Peter’s leg slightly, towards his own hips. Wade isn’t even aware that he is trying to get Peter to wrap his legs around him until Peter places his hands on Wade's chest to push himself away, to remain fully seated on the countertop. Peter’s leg falls from Wade’s hand during the sudden stop, snapping Wade back to reality.

Wade leans back, abruptly aware of where he had wanted to take this, how wrong it is, and why he came here in the first place. He tries to catch his breath as he watches Peter staring at him with needy eyes, breathing hard himself.

“We should… we should probably stop and-”

“I should leave,” Wade interrupts, turning to rush out of the door. He hastens home, willing himself to calm down and get a grip, to not make mistakes in yet another relationship.

Meanwhile, Peter barely stutters out a quiet retort as Wade leaves, watching the door close. “Well, goodbye, I guess.” He slides off the counter, a bit confused, but also thankful.

_If he had kept going, I’m not certain I could have stopped._

Later that night, Wade decides he needs to confess. He ignores the part of his brain that teases him about the ending of his last major confession and instead focuses on the main point of it.

_Father Parker was able to help me rationalize my sins, putting them into perspective so I’m no longer carrying the weight of them by myself. Hopefully he can do that again._

A few days later, Wade goes to make his confession. He has an awkward moment where he explicitly states that he needs to confess to Father Parker, not any other member of the clergy, causing Deacon Lasalle to fumble on his usual confessional spiel before excusing himself. After the door closes, Wade remains in the booth, impatient and suddenly unsure if he should stay. He feels that he’s already been there far too long, that he might have to try again later, when he hears the door on the other side open.

“Sorry for the wait, but I’m here now, so let’s begin.”

Wade breathes a sigh of relief as he listens to Father Parker fidget in the booth before saying a short blessing.

Wade waits a few more seconds, then he speaks, trying to steady his nerves. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been… oh… a month? Yeah, a month since my last confession.”

Wade clears his throat. “I’ve committed the sin of lust, not necessarily in action, but in my heart. You know, the whole ‘sin with your eyes’ bit? I’ve done that, so much of that, try as I might not to. And now I can’t seem to focus on God’s Word while in church, not with all these lustful thoughts creeping in… I am sorry for these and all my sins.”

Wade waits for Father Parker to tell him his penance, but instead all he hears is Father Parker clearing his throat before mumbling, “Oh… I see…”

Wade nods, not realizing that Father Parker can't see him with the knitted screen partition separating them. “Yes. Yes, I… I just get these thoughts, sometimes urges, to do… unholy things.”

“Unholy things?”

“Yes. Things I probably should not do. Not outside of wedlock. And especially not… to a man of the cloth. Yet, it seems that-”

“Well, this does seem complicated.”

Wade freezes, suddenly concerned for the first time that Father Parker might judge him for this show of honesty.

“I think it might be best if you finish this confession later…”

Wade is gobsmacked. He has never heard of such a thing, never even knew that it was possible to confess later. “You want me to… later? But… but when?”

“Yes, later, if you can make it to the rectory tonight.”

Wade wants to ask him to clarify but stops after the first syllable when he hears Father Parker leave the confessional booth. Wade waits a moment before leaving, too, but he still manages to catch Peter slip out of the room. Wade is not sure what Father Parker intends, why he must finish this confession later; he knows that this is not the outcome he had hoped for.

Wade goes home and dwells on the situation, wondering if he should not have confessed to Peter.

_It’s not that he didn’t take it well or confirmed that it was a sin that I needed to put a stop to. And it was not like I was expecting a positive reaction either. I just wanted to sort this out. I know his hang-ups about public affection, what it may cost him, but my body doesn’t have that kind of rationale. And it doesn’t help that I know about Henry? Harry? Whoever that was who saw Peter in ways I haven’t and may never get to see, which causes all this jealousy in my heart to rise up every time I have to suppress these lustful urges._

Wade can feel that very jealousy rearing its ugly head at the thought, so he begins pacing in his cabin. Instead, he’s reflecting on why he rushed out of the priory the other night. There is always that one voice telling him it’s a sin, then another, smaller voice warning him about Peter seeing all of him. Wade passes by the bathroom, peeking in to glance at the tub.

_Although judging by what happened here, I doubt he’ll judge me or laugh or be disgusted… I hope not at least…_

But what Wade is trying hard to ignore is the even tinier voice telling him this is Vanessa all over again. It is the constant reminder that not only is this a sin, but it is a sin that almost cost Vanessa her salvation. She died without last rites, and if it wasn’t for Wade ruining his reputation even further, she would not be buried on church grounds right now.

_But it’s not the same. Vanessa died during childbirth, and they didn’t even give a damn about the baby. The church never seems to care until a pregnancy happens. It’s not like either Peter or I could get pregnant… so… if he ever does allow us to go further, it would be fine, right? Or is the guilt I’m feeling because it really is a sin still, regardless of our biology?_

Wade wanders into his bedroom, accidentally kicking a small revolver under the bed with his boot. He freezes for a moment.

_You know who can answer all this? A priest. They would know… but also…_

“Dammit!” Wade shouts as he sulks in place.

_They would be strict about their own set of laws, wouldn’t they? Regardless of whether or not this is a sin, they probably need to be kept pure and holy and, and… I bet he doesn’t even touch himself!_

With a loud groan, he face-plants onto his bed.

_Why did I have to fall for a priest?_

Later that evening, Wade stops by the church after the special evening service to water the plants. Father Parker smiles at him as he heads into the priory. Wade offers a small wave as he continues to water the tomatoes, watching Peter carefully as if he can discover a clue as to why he needs to finish his confession later.

He quickly finishes in the garden and rushes up the stairs to the clergy house, knocking on the door harder than intended. Father Parker appears and ushers him inside. Wade looks between the couch and the kitchen, unsure of where to go before Father Parker leads him away from both those areas towards the back of the house. Soon Wade finds himself in Father Parker’s bedroom. Peter is sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at him expectantly. Wade suddenly feels his throat go dry as he catches on to why Father Parker had stopped his confession earlier that morning. He races across the room and hurriedly sits next to Father Parker, scooting close enough that their thighs touch. Licking his lips, Wade leans in to kiss Father Parker.

Softly, Peter says, “What about your confession?”

Wade freezes, suddenly fearing that he has completely misread the room. Peter sees Wade’s shocked expression and can’t help but smirk at him. Wade breathes out a sigh of relief before he brings up a hand to gently caress Peter’s face. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I have imagined doing unholy things to a man of the cloth. I’ve imagined…” Wade trails off as he leans in once more, this time kissing Father Parker tenderly. He pulls back to witness Peter blushing. “What it would feel to have his soft lips against mine.”

Wade gets closer and whispers, “And what it would feel like to have his tongue against mine.”

Father Parker grins into the kiss just before Wade deepens it, licking into his mouth as he gently wraps an arm around him. When Father Parker makes a small sound in the back of his throat, Wade breaks the kiss but keeps his face close. “I’ve also imagined the sounds he would make, wondering if they would be the same if I were to-”

Wade cuts himself off by kissing Peter along his neck. One of his hands manages to find its way to Father Parker’s knee, and he slowly traces it up Peter's thigh while he presses his lips to Peter’s neck. As Wade’s hand travels higher, Father Parker slowly spreads his legs wider. Wade resists the urge to allow his hand to continue where he wants it to go, at least not until he finishes his confession first. He stops kissing Father Parker, sitting back. He brings his hands up to Peter’s shirt, slowly unbuttoning it.

“I’ve imagined him in various states of undress, such as shirtless, where I can run my hands over his stomach and chest, appreciating his body in every way I desire.”

Father Parker sits there, allowing Wade to unbutton his shirt until he gets to the collar, where he struggles a little bit and makes Peter uncomfortable. Father Parker undoes the last part himself, standing as he removes it. He tosses the shirt towards a nearby chair, turning back around to see Wade scrambling to pull his own shirt over his head. Father Parker steps closer, placing a hand on Wade’s chest, slowly dragging it down until his fingers are tracing the jut of his hip.

“Was there anything else you needed to confess?”

Father Parker lets out a small yelp when Wade suddenly picks him up in his arms. Wade sets him down on the bed, laying next to him. “Oh, so much more. For instance,” Wade rolls over until he is on top of Peter, using both of his arms to keep the bulk of his weight off of Peter. “I’ve also imagined how it would feel to have him under me, kissing me desperately before I move.”

Father Parker smirks at him as he reaches up towards Wade’s face, gently cradling it as he draws nearer. Slowly, Wade lowers himself with one arm. As Wade had suggested before, Father Parker does kiss him desperately. He sighs and gasps into it, his fingers gripping tightly onto Wade’s shoulders. Wade then leans on one side, pressing further up against Peter as his other hand slowly trails down Father Parker’s body. They remain this way for quite some time, Father Parker and Wade both working their hands closer and closer to parts they’ve had yet to explore on each other.

Eventually, Wade breaks the kiss mumbling, “I’ve also imagined kissing him in other places.”

Father Parker breaths out shakily as Wade works his hands and mouth down Peter, taking his time and lingering every place that he squirms. Between each caress, grope, or kiss, Wade slowly speaks out the rest of his confession, how he imagines Father Parker would breathe, sigh, moan, gasp, and writhe under him if given the chance. “And how he would react to all of this,” Wade finishes, palming Peter through his pants and causing him to gasp inwardly.

Wade grins at him before he starts his way back up Father Parker’s body, his mouth and one hand trail slow, loving touches. His other remains on Peter’s pants, teasing him. It stills, eventually, against Peter’s erection so he can lean in and kiss Peter again. Father Parker inadvertently thrusts up into Wade’s hand as he kisses him back, earning him a soft chuckle from Wade. He gives Peter one last kiss before sitting back, staring softly at him. Wade brings his hand up to Peter’s hair, brushing it back gently.

“I’ve wondered what it would be like to be this close to him. Sometimes I just want to lay next to him and hold him tight. Other times, like now, I wonder what it would take for him to allow me to touch him directly, to please him, to give him pleasure.”

Father Parker takes a few deep breaths before saying, “And let’s just say this is all it takes.” Wade grins at how blasé Peter is trying to appear. “Were there any other thoughts past that?”

Wade sits up, maneuvering himself until he is straddling Father Parker’s lap. He starts to undo Father Parker’s belt as he says, “Of course. I’ve imagined how he would look with his pants undone, glancing down at me expectantly.”

Father Parker feels as though Wade is teasing him, but he can’t argue, not when he is looking at him with such eager anticipation.

Once Wade manages to undo Father Parker’s pants, he runs his hand over Peter’s erection, stroking him through his underwear. Father Parker shifts under him, desperate for more friction. Wade continues to stroke him as he works his way back up Father Parker’s body, kissing him gently along his shoulder and neck. Wade then slips his hand inside Peter’s underwear, grasping him firmly. He moves to cut off Peter’s gasp with a kiss. It’s lazy and slow as he works Father Parker with his hand, rubbing up and down, occasionally moving to the head to spread around any leaking precum.

Eventually Wade stops, moving back to sit on his heels, but this time next to Father Parker’s thighs instead of on them. “I’ve also imagined what it would look like to have it out…?”

Wade’s asking for permission, which Father Parker grants by nodding once and lifting his hips. Wade quickly tugs the rest of Peter’s clothes down to his knees. He then leans in closer, dragging a finger up along the now exposed shaft.

“Never thought I’d see a holy phallus in my life,” Wade pauses when Father Parker grumbles, covering his face with his hands. “No! It’s a good thing. I am _not_ disappointed. Truly a blessing.”

Father Parker lowers his hands from his face when Wade starts stroking him again, his movements quicker this time. Father Parker can only stare at Wade’s grinning face, his own jaw slack. Wade bites his bottom lip before snaking his other hand over, slowly palming at Father Parker’s testes. When Father Parker bucks his hips up, Wade says, “You know… this is only scratching the surface of everything I’ve thought of doing to this particular man of the cloth…”

“Well… You have… quite the imagination…”

“I can’t help it. He’s beautiful, he’s generous, he’s so kind-hearted-”

“Oh, do stop,” Father Parker manages to say before gasping at the way Wade teases the tip.

“He’s also terribly shy at times but knows how to shake me to my core when he wants to be forward.”

“Wade!”

Wade grins viciously. “He’s the most wonderful person I’ve even met, with the softest hair, the most gorgeous eyes, with a mouth like fine wine and a-”

“I believe it’s you with a mouth like that.”

“You like my mouth that much?” Wade teases, leaning forward to kiss Father Parker.

Peter moans into it and nods. “It is you with a tongue like the sweetest wine, my dear.”

“Well then, I’m sure you won’t mind…”

Without more warning, Wade bends down and takes Peter’s entire length into his mouth. Peter straightens up, his hands scrambling for Wade as he releases a strangled moan from the back of his throat. Wade works his mouth along the shaft a few times before pulling off with a wet smack. “You _are_ okay with this, correct?”

Father Parker hesitates, but only for a moment, before saying, “Well, as a priest, I don’t really… I mean…” Wade gives him a concerned look before he slowly pulls away, Father Parker’s hands itching to make him stop. “No, no, no. I just… I won’t last.”

Wade smirks at him while palming at Peter’s testicles now tight against his body. “Oh, I know, but I don’t mind one bit.”

Wade resumes pleasuring Father Parker before he can give Wade a proper response. He continues to move his lips up and down Father Parker’s length, pausing at the head to tease his tongue against the slit. Peter lays back on the bed, head dipping into the pillow behind him. He won’t be able to hold back much longer; Wade has already had to hold his hips down to keep him from squirming.

Father Parker is close, and he tries to warn him, tries to say Wade’s name out loud, but Peter’s efforts only cause Wade to pick up speed, his mouth thoroughly tending to the head of Peter’s shaft while Wade’s hand makes up for the friction along the rest of the length. Too soon, Peter climaxes, gripping the pillow under his head as he arches up. Wade feels his mouth quickly fill with bitterness, hot and thick; he greedily swallows it all. Wiping his mouth, Wade sits up, leaving Father Parker laying there on the bed, breathing hard.

When Father Parker finally catches his breath, he gestures for Wade to lay down next to him. Wade does, curling in close and kissing Father Parker softly on the cheek.

“I have one more confession to make.”

“Unless it’s what you want me to do to you, you’re going to have to give me a moment.”

Wade chuckles. “No, it’s… well, yes, but I… I do want more, and I do want to keep doing this with you, and whatever else you’d like as long as I can continue to make you feel good.”

Closing his eyes, Father Parker shudders out a breath. He wants to tell Wade he can do more, have whatever he wants, but something inside him is still pulling back.

Wade then says, “And please don’t think I mean right now. I don’t. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.” Wade glances away, deep in thought for a few seconds before turning back to Peter. “What I wanted to say is that I want more of you, completely, because you have all of me. I don’t plan on leaving. Not this town, not you. As long as I’m alive, you have me.”

Father Parker smiles softly at him as Wade leans forward, giving him another chaste kiss on the lips. Satisfied, Wade gets up off the bed and picks up his own discarded shirt.

“I’m not entirely sure what all this is, what it means for my faith, or yours for that matter, but I do know that regardless of all that, I’m in it for the long haul.” He gives Father Parker another quick peck before he slides out of the bedroom, bidding him a good night in the process.

Father Parker stares after him in disbelief, hastily redressing himself to follow Wade wherever it is he is going. But by the time he makes it to the door, Wade is long gone. Peter slowly closes the front door and wanders back into his bedroom to sit on his bed. A part of him wishes Wade would have stayed long enough so that he could return the favor Wade has done him, but he trusts that Wade must have a good reason for leaving the way he did.

Father Parker then thinks back to the last thing Wade said before he left, feeling himself flush.

_Only Wade can say such sweet things immediately after making me see stars. It feels a bit strange though… but knowing him… he still means it just as much._


	40. Jul 2-3, 1958

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this chapter, we've hit 100k!  
> Can't believe y'all really sat here and read that many words about two idiots toeing the line between sin and love.  
> BLESS YOU ALL!! <3

Peter had made plans to meet with Wade one Wednesday evening so they could explore more of what lay beyond the hills. But as the time Peter had agreed upon drew near and passed without a sign of him, Wade finds himself moving from anxious to a strange mix of concerned and angry. After a while, he ventures out onto the dirt road that leads to town, walking slowly, hoping that he will run into Father Parker. Wade walks a few laps up and down the road, but Peter never shows up. He eventually resigns himself to going home and making dinner for himself. At first, Wade is annoyed having wasted his time waiting for Peter, but soon his frustration gets interrupted by the sudden worry that Peter didn’t care and had forgotten about him.

Wade finishes cooking and begins plating the meal, ready to eat his feelings about their pseudo-date not happening. He says a quick prayer and picks up his utensils, but before he can make the first cut into the chicken of his coq au vin, there is a loud knock at his door. Wade is reluctant to stand until he hears Father Parker’s voice, calling out to him hesitantly through the wood. Wade quickly dumps the contents of his plate back into the pan, covering it with a lid as he calls back.

“One moment!”

As soon as Wade opens the door, Father Parker rushes in, clutching a book to his chest. He barely sets it down on the table before words start rushing out of his mouth. “I am so, so sorry! I completely lost track of time, and there’s no excuse for me being nearly two hours late. I’m terribly sorry. I went to that amazing field you showed me to read for pleasure, and I guess I just got so wrapped up in everything that I didn’t realize how late it had gotten and-”

“I absolve you of all your sins,” Wade says flatly, making the sign of the cross with exaggerated gestures.

Father Parker freezes in place, staring at Wade. There’s a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he says, “I don’t think you’re authorized to do that.”

Wade shrugs. “Well, I do think I’m at least capable of forgiving you for being late.”

Peter smiles softly at him as he says, “So, about the trip to…?”

“I’m still not telling you where we’re going.”

“But we’re still going?” Peter smirks.

Wade heads to the door, slipping on his boots. “Of course we’re still going.”

As they head towards the dirt road, Wade pointedly looks towards the sun, lower in the sky than he’d like, as he says, “You know, a part of me regrets showing you that field so soon. Should have probably saved it for later.”

“I’m sorry! I really…” Father Parker trails off as Wade laughs.

“I’m only teasing. I’m glad you enjoyed it so much. It seems that much of the town does not know about it. They’re too content in their only little world to be concerned of what lies just beyond the perimeter.”

Father Parker nods, pausing at the entrance of the dirt road in confusion when Wade turns to walk up the hill, away from town. “Are we still avoiding the town?”

Wade continues to walk as he looks back over his shoulder. “Are you also content in-”

“No. I just… nevermind.”

Wade chuckles as Father Parker jogs to catch up. Walking up the road, Wade asks Peter about the book he was reading that made him so late, prodding him for information while refusing to reveal any details about their destination. Eventually, Wade ventures off the path, turning right into some vegetation with no clear walkway in sight.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?”

“I’ve traveled to numerous countries with as little as a crude hand-drawn map and no knowledge of the language or customs, yet I’ve still made it home every time.”

“So, you’ve never gotten lost!?” Peter asks incredulously.

“Oh, I never said that. I make it home but sometimes it takes a few tries.”

“Lord, please grant us travel mercies,” Father Parker prays loud enough for Wade to hear.

“AMEN!” Wade replies before both men giggle.

Wade makes Peter discuss his book further as they trek through the woods, gradually climbing up the mountain. Father Parker is about to complain about Wade leaving out the hiking part of their trip when Wade turns and grabs his hand, quickly leading him towards a break in the tree line.

Peter gasps at the sight before him. “I never knew there was a… a… is this a lake? A lake up in the mountains? But how!?”

Wade doesn’t say a word as he leads him towards a rock, climbing on top. They sit there, looking over the lake just a couple of meters below them. Father Parker stares down into the water, looking beyond the soft waves caused by the breeze. He thinks he sees something moving, but he can’t be certain of it.

“It’s getting a bit too dark to take you there now, but just over there, at that narrow inlet, is a mossy bed. It’s actually more like algae the closer you get to the water, and it goes on for quite some ways. So, I believe it might have connected to a bigger body of water at some point. There’s even two smaller ones over here,” Wade points to what Father Parker assumes are just ditches. “It’s possible that the water flow continued outward as well.”

Father Parker simply nods as he continues to stare down into the lake. Soon, a small fish breaks the surface of the water, attempting to catch an insect. Startled, Peter exclaims, “There’s fish in here!”

Wade laughs. “Yeah, I think they might have gotten trapped here before the stream or whatever it was dried up. It’s been like this for years, so I’m not completely certain.”

“Amazing… though…” Peter thinks about it for a moment. “They do seem to be living in their own little word, like most of the people in our town.”

Wade leans closer to Father Parker, glancing down into the water. “Hmm, possibly. But I doubt they’d stay if they had a chance to be freed from it.”

Wade tries to rig a cane pole for fishing as Father Parker dwells on the fish’s freedom. He contemplates whether or not they’d stay if this became a moving body of water again, if they had a way to leave.

_And if I had a chance to leave, as if being sentenced here as penance for my sins had never occurred, would I?_

_But Wade…_

Father Parker knows that their increasingly romantic relationship has gone from temptation to outright sin, but unlike his time spent with Harry, Father Parker feels more confusion than he does guilt. He knows he is courting trouble once again, but a part of him does not seem to care, not when he loves Wade to the point of being content with staying in a drab little village for the rest of all his days.

He has a sudden thought of Wade being like one of the fish that’s ready to break the surface or even breaking free from the pond completely if enough rain occurs to bring back the stream. He knows that Wade doesn’t mind travel, not with his job. Plus, he confesses to taking extra time to explore sometimes.

_And if given the opportunity… Would I go with him?_

Father Parker looks over at Wade thinking about how far he’d go for him, how many rules he’d break before he actually feels like he is breaking them. Wade tosses aside his unfinished cane pole in frustration before looking back at Father Parker. He gives him a confused smile before asking, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Peter only scoots closer until their thighs are touching and places a hand on Wade’s leg.

“Are you… are you sure we should be doing this?” Wade asks, back suddenly stiff as he glances around.

“What are the chances of people from the town being up here?”

“Considering I’ve seen no other signs of human life up here in several years, probably as much as the field of flowers. None.”

“Right… so…”

Father Parker leans his head in, his hand slowly reaching up towards Wade’s cheek. Wade grins briefly before closing the distance, kissing Father Parker lazily. He wraps his arms around him, his hands wandering aimlessly, as he deepens the kiss. Both men soon forget about their small, isolated town; they get lost in the company of each other, just two little fish content in a pond of their own creation.

On the way back down the dirt road, Wade purposely brushes his hand up against Peter’s, seeing how far he can take this. It only takes a few seconds before Father Parker turns his hand, gently holding Wade’s by the fingertips.

Wade smiles to himself. “Before you arrived, I had just made dinner.”

“Oh, my gracious, I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine. Really. I was only saying that because I was wondering if you would like to come over and join me?”

Wade feels Peter shift his hand, getting a better grip before squeezing Wade’s own. “I’d love to.”

Wade is hoping that since Father Parker agreed to dinner, he might agree to spending the night as well. He spent a good portion of his time while making the cane fishing pole thinking of how to ask Peter. He even mentally prepared a small speech about how he has no ill intent; he simply wants to be able to wake up next to him. Seeing the first part accomplished, Wade takes a deep breath and starts to recite his spiel out loud and in a hurry.

“I was also wondering if you’d like to stay for the night, but before you say anything, hear me out-”

“Yes.”

“Please know that-”

“I said ‘Yes,’ Wade.”

“-I don’t mean it in a manner such as- Wait. What?”

Father Parker laughs. “Yes, I’ll stay tonight. It is getting rather dark already, but I don’t plan on… you know…”

Wade nods fervently. “Yes, yes, of course! I just… I just want you to stay. That’s all. Nothing more.”

Peter glances over at him, feeling the sudden urge to kiss him again, but not willing to risk such an act in the middle of the road.

Once the men make it back to the cabin, Wade begins heating up the coq au vin again, adding a bit more chicken broth and butter to the pan. As he adds the pinot noir, Wade pauses, looking back at Father Parker.

“I know it’s a bit too late to ask at this point, but you don’t mind, do you?” Wade raises the bottle towards Father Parker.

“Are you talking about the food or were you trying to offer me a glass?”

“The food! Of course!”

Father Parker chuckles. “Honestly, the answer is ‘yes’ either way.”

Wade stares at him dumbfounded for a moment before pouring one last splash of wine into the pan. “I should have known.”

“What do you mean!?”

“A while back you said you got drunk on the blood of the Lord.”

Father Parker thought for a moment, suddenly remembering the embarrassing comment he made some time ago when Wade stopped by unannounced with concerns about participating in communion. “How did you remember that!? No. That’s- No. It was just a joke!”

“Uh huh. Sure,” Wade teases as he pours them both a glass of wine. “You know I think of that comment every time we have communion, wondering if you’re going to get drunk again.”

Peter hangs his head in his hands and groans, ignoring the glass Wade places in front of him.

“Anyways, this is not the best quality, certainly not the Lord’s blood, since I mainly use it for cooking, but…” Wade trails off, shrugging.

“Considering I _rarely_ drink, and it’s never enough to even get near becoming drunk, I’m sure I won’t be able to tell.”

Wade checks on the pan before saying, “I didn’t know priests were allowed to drink.”

“ _Drunkenness_ is a sin. But drinking in itself? I don’t think simply drinking a small glass on a rare occasion is a sin.”

Wade sips his own wine while staring at Father Parker, considering him.

_That sounds like dangerous thinking, but who am I to talk?_

“But you… do you drink?”

Wade shrugs noncommittally.

“I didn’t mean to pry, but last time I tried to tidy the place up while you were gone, I noticed quite a few bottles…”

“Ah, you saw my cabinet?”

Father Parker nods.

“Most are for cooking. Some are a gift from Wea- that one friend I mentioned. One or two are leftovers from when Al was around, which I should probably throw out at this point, and admittedly some are for me, though… I haven’t had much reason to drink these days, not in a manner outside of pairings with dinner.”

Father Parker swirls his wine in his glass as he says, “Is that so?” He startles as Wade suddenly sits beside him.

“It is. Things have gotten much, much better,” Wade replies softly, leaning in for a chaste kiss. As soon as their lips part, he stands back up and hastens to the stove, turning off the heat.

They share the meal together, joking about the petty drama in town between the bookseller and the bar next door, both clearly in the wrong over the issue of property lines.

After dinner, they sit on the couch, the night being too warm for a fire. They swap stories about their past until Wade finds himself yawning in between each sentence.

“Should we go to bed?”

Wade nods, grabbing Father Parker’s hand and leading him towards the bedroom. After handing him a change of clothes, Wade leaves to check the locks and windows; it’s a part of his nightly routine. Wade returns to see Peter in clothes far too big for him, hiking up the pants so he’s not stepping on them as he attempts to climb into Wade’s bed. Wade knows he’s grinning like a fool, but he cannot help it. He turns off the lights and throws himself into bed, crashing into Peter and earning a scolding.

Once in bed, Wade props up a pillow and pulls the duvet up so it’s tented over them.

“Wade, what are you-”

“Shh. This is the Promises Room. Only promises can be spoken here.”

“What does that even mean?”

He inches closer to him in the dark. “Hush! Only promises!” Wade waits a moment, suppressing a chuckle at the mental image of Peter’s confused face. “Fine, I’ll go first. I promise to always come home. Oh wait, I’ve already promised that.”

Wade hears Peter breathe out a sigh which turns into a short chuckle. He soon feels a hand lay gently on his arm. “I think I understand now… so… I guess I promise… that you can come to the priory whenever you want. Well, unless my former-”

“Nope, even then. I promise to be there for you however you need me, whenever they decide to check in on you, whether that’s cooking another dinner for them, staying far away, or whatever in between.”

“I appreciate that.”

After a moment of silence, Wade inches closer. “I believe it’s still your turn since I made the last promise.”

They exchange a few more promises, some on the sillier side until Wade says, “I vow to give you the biggest garden you can imagine, one so large you’ll feel like you’re living in that field of flowers.”

Wade fully expects Peter to say another funny promise or build off of Wade’s, but he’s only met with silence. Thinking Peter might have fallen asleep, Wade pulls the duvet back down. He takes the upright pillow and puts it in its rightful place as he carefully shifts away from Peter. As he lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, he suddenly feels Peter curl up against him, laying an arm across his chest.

“And I promise to do everything in my power to remind you every day that you’ll always belong. But for now, let’s get some sleep.”

Wade did not have a goal when he started this little game. It was a spur of the moment decision, just a childish way for him to tell Peter all the things he wants to do for him. He never expected to hear something like that, to suddenly feel choked up by such a sincere promise.

Keeping his word from earlier in the evening, Wade does not do anything to push the physical side of their relationship. He simply gives Peter a quick goodnight kiss and holds him as he drifts off to sleep, Peter’s head resting on Wade’s chest. He smiles softly to himself as he runs his fingers through Father Parker’s hair, listening to the sounds of the woods at night, now complete with the added sound of Peter’s breathing.

Wade presses his lips to the top of Peter’s head. “As long as I’m here, I’ll never let anything bad happen to you. Promise.”

The next morning, Wade wakes to the feeling of someone pushing him slightly. He peeks an eye open to see Peter trying to turn Wade just enough so he can tuck himself up under his arm. Wade closes his eyes and grabs Peter, pulling him close and resisting the urge to laugh when he yelps in surprise.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Peter says, snuggling closer.

“You’re here, so it was a good way to wake up.”

They lay in bed for a moment longer until Father Parker says he should probably head home so he can get to work. Wade’s response is to hold him tighter, but Peter berates him for it. Despite that, Wade manages to convince him to stay long enough for coffee and toast with jam. They have a quiet breakfast together, stealing shy glances. The peak of the conversation revolves around their plans for the day. Otherwise, both men simply enjoy each other’s company. Neither is aware, but there is a heavy atmosphere of regret that they can’t spend more time together. Last night was just a reminder of how badly they long for such an affectionate, leisurely morning on a more regular basis.

After a lingering goodbye, Father Parker leaves Wade’s cabin, slowly making his way back to town. Once he leaves the dirt road, he only manages a few steps onto one of the main streets when the man who runs the bookstore passes by. Father Parker thinks it curious that the man is on this side of town, but before he could fully process the thought, the man says, “Good morning, Father Parker! It’s pretty early for visits, isn’t it?”

“Good Morning, Mr. Périgord! But, um… Visits? What do you-”

“Well, isn’t that what you’re doing?”

Father Parker fumbles on his words for a minute.

“Well, it’s either that or you were terribly lost on your way to the church.” Father Parker does not like the way Mr. Périgord laughs after making such a poor joke. “The only thing up that road is…” Mr. Périgord trails off as he steps closer to Father Parker, lowering his voice. “Mr. Wilson. Along with a couple of strange rock formations. I swear to you, one has a wooden placard on it that almost makes it feel like some sort of pagan gravesite. It’s terribly eerie and probably why children used to dare each other to go up there.”

Mr. Périgord shakes his head in disapproval as Peter tries his best to appear more surprised than fearful. “You don’t say! Well… I’m glad my morning explorations did not lead me there…”

“You’re certainly right! There’s undoubtedly no good out there once you leave the border. It’s much safer here, where we know the people are God-fearing.”

Father Parker can no longer bear the conversation. “I’ll take your word on it. Have a blessed day, monsieur.” Peter gives him a curt nod, turning away before even receiving a reply.

He hastens to the rectory to prepare for his day's work, taking a few deep breaths as soon as he enters his home to steady himself.

_Perhaps the hills around Wade are not as secluded as I once thought, not if they are daring each other to visit a possible grave… and I do believe Wade mentioned something of that nature before…_

_And I was feeling safer yesterday, so confident in what I wanted…_

But yesterday, Father Parker only knew he wanted to be with Wade if he wasn’t a man of the cloth. He knew that if he had somehow ended up in this village for another reason, he would have tried to be with Wade eventually. However, Father Parker has never truly thought about being with Wade _at the cost_ of his faith and priesthood. It is already shaky to begin with, but the prospect of messing up and getting in trouble with the diocese again is enough to nauseate him. He is already on his last leg with them, with excommunication being the least of his concerns. On the other hand, the thought of treating Wade as a simple congregation member tears his heart in a completely different way.

_I need to be more careful. I can’t risk either happening. Ever._


	41. Jul 6-29, 1958

The following Sunday, Father Parker struggles to get through service. Wade, though feeling more like a part of the church and the community now, still tends to slip into services at the very last minute. It means the congregation usually doesn’t notice him, which is his intention, but in turn, Father Parker is more likely to spot him, especially today dressed in his new church clothes. It is a style not often seen in town, with the tight slacks that hug his thighs as he moves and the Cuban collar shirt which leaves much of his chest exposed even though it’s buttoned all the way to the top. After seeing Wade, Peter has to take a few moments to collect himself before focusing back on the progress of the service.

On the other hand, Wade manages to make it through the entire service without losing his focus. After the service, however, Wade finds himself distracted when one of the school teachers approaches Wade to ask for his help with fixing her fence, which was damaged by a few local teens. Wade tries his best to listen, but keeps stealing glances at Father Parker, only a little bit confused as to why he is giving him such a flirtatious look, especially since two of the church’s deacons are still talking to him.

Once most of the members of the church have trickled out into the streets, Peter slinks towards the front doors where Wade is clearly dawdling on the steps. He has to say a quick prayer of penance at his immediate thought upon seeing Wade up close. The sleeves of the shirt are tight around Wade’s arms. Its fabric is thinner than he imagined—not enough for Father Parker to easily see through, but enough for him to notice a few of Wade’s more prominent scars, to identify the defined curve of muscles, and to see the darkest part indicating the top of his slacks, which are riding lower on his hips than Peter expected. The summer sun is not helping his situation either, making the shirt stick to Wade in places as he has started to sweat. Father Parker’s eyes trail past Wade’s neck and chest, following a bead of sweat slowly making its way down as Wade starts discussing the sermon.

They make small talk for a while before Wade asks Father Parker if he can be free for lunch the following day.

Peter struggles to hold back a grin as he nods. “I can be.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” Father Parker watches as Wade’s eyes dart around before glancing back at him, winking subtly before he turns and jogs down the stairs.

Over the next two weeks, they unintentionally test the boundaries of what they can get away with. They steal sly touches and knowing glances. They continue to share meals on occasion, always punctuating them with a few chaste kisses. Worst of all is Wade’s new habit of finding excuses to touch Father Parker more, his hand always lingering on a part of him regardless of where they are.

While sweeping the sanctuary one day, Wade brushes a lock of Peter’s hair back, saying, “I think you’ve been avoiding the barbershop for long enough.”

He runs his fingers through Father Parker’s hair, his hand staying in place as he tucks another tress behind Peter’s ear. Withdrawing his hand, Wade is surprised when Peter reaches up, gently holding onto it as he presses his lips against Wade’s fingertips. Wade flushes as he grins down at Father Parker.

Peter’s other hand reaches up to touch his hair, and he asks if it looks bad. But in doing so, he accidently lets go of his broom, causing it to fall against a pew with a loud clatter. Both men startle, and Wade snatches his hand back. Looking around to ensure they are still alone, they both grab their cleaning supplies and take a step away from each other.

_Perhaps this is not appropriate behavior for sweeping in the Lord’s house._

They return to the task at hand for a few more minutes. Eventually, Wade approaches Father Parker again, clearing his throat to get his attention. Peter looks back over his shoulder.

“I have to leave tomorrow evening,” Wade whispers.

Father Parker stills for a moment. “Evening… so you’ll be free for lunch before you go?”

Wade goes back to sweeping. “Of course.”

The next day, Father Parker makes some sandwiches for them. He takes a bite of his, coughing it down when Wade suddenly turns and starts kissing his neck. Peter tosses his food down onto his plate, wiping his palms roughly on his pants as Wade inches closer, his hand sliding up Peter’s forearm.

Peter breathes out a sigh as Wade takes his time working his mouth over Father Parker’s jawline. The touches make Peter squirm with impatience until Wade reaches his lips, deepening the kiss almost instantly.

He pulls back and mumbles, “You taste like bread.”

Father Parker rolls his eyes. Before he can retort, Wade leans in to kiss him again. Their lips barely have time to touch before there is a loud knock at the door. Father Parker bolts up, straightening out his clothes as he shouts, “One moment!”

Opening the door hesitantly, Father Parker invites Deacon Duguay into his home.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The deacon says cheerfully before he looks over at the doorway to the kitchen. His grin falters for a moment before giving Wade what he can only describe as an unwelcome glare. “ _Am I_ interrupting something?”

“Not really,” Wade responds before Peter can utter a syllable. “We were just having lunch. Care to join?”

Duguay doesn’t respond before Wade turns back towards the kitchen, heading to the cabinet to grab a third place setting for the deacon.

Father Parker follows the deacon into the kitchen, noting how Wade moved his plate to the other side of the table while he was answering the door. The deacon agrees to stay for lunch, discussing his issue freely in front of Wade, even asking him for his opinion at one point. Aside from a comment about how Wade knows his way around Father Parker’s kitchen, both men feel that the impromptu luncheon has gone smoothly.

However, as Duguay announces that he should probably be heading home, he adds, “Care to walk out with me, Mr. Wilson?”

Wade falters for a moment before forcing a smile and saying, “Certainly.”

Father Parker feels conflicted as they leave. He knows he cannot kiss Wade goodbye like usual, not with a deacon there.

When Deacon Duguay says he’ll see Peter tomorrow, Father Parker fumbles over his words, echoing back, “Yes, see you tomorrow, and you too, Mr. Wilson,” realizing too late that he will not see Wade for a few days. 

Wade gives Peter a strange look as he leaves, and Peter can’t help feeling something tighten in his chest now that it’s clear he won’t get to say goodbye before Wade leaves on his mission. It’ll be days before they can see each other again, and Peter is dreading the loneliness.

While Wade is away, Father Parker visits his cabin from time to time to water his plants and sometimes to find a quiet place to read. He is sitting on Wade’s couch when he hears the sound of heavy footsteps on the porch steps. Sitting upright to glance out the window, Peter breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Wade trudging across the porch. He hears the rattle of the key in the door as he sets his book down, standing to greet Wade. Wade enters and kicks the door shut with his boot. A grin spreads across his face as he finally turns to toss his bag on the floor, spotting Peter in the process.

“Peter! What are you doing here?”

Wade starts to approach him, but Father Parker raises both hands, stepping back. He gestures towards Wade’s current state, the clay and dust from the road sticking to his sweaty clothes.

“I was just reading, but I can make us some dinner if you get cleaned up first. It looks as though you tried to bring the entire road home.”

Wade grins at Peter’s casual use of ‘home’ before asking him, “Are you going to help me?”

Peter flushes furiously and rushes off towards the kitchen. “You returned with both arms this time, so I’m certain you’ll be fine on your own.”

“I can change that. It’ll grow back in-”

“Don’t even joke about that!”

Wade apologizes but then laughs loudly before he leaves to go clean himself. As he bathes, all he can think of is how much he has missed Father Parker these past few days, how he planned on visiting him as soon as possible, and how he wanted nothing more than to hold him close. But these thoughts quickly devolve into ones of a more lustful nature, ones based upon several lines of scripture he has memorized while hiding out in an old barn during his mission.

This scripture is not the usual lines he’d commit to heart in order to save his soul. He had previously only managed to recall a few of them from this particular book simply because of how often he has read them, finding the verses poetic and beautiful. But this last time was different. Instead, he couldn’t help but read the entire book over and over again, whispering the verses out loud until he barely had to look at the pages to know the next word, all because he now has a face to put the words to.

Wade hurries to get cleaned up, so he can act on those desires. Hastily drying himself, he wraps the towel around his waist as he goes in search of a clean set of clothes. He slips on a pair of cotton pants and hesitates as he picks up a shirt.

_It’s a risk, but it will be worth it to see his reaction._

Wade tosses the shirt back down and pads towards the kitchen. He watches as Peter places a pan of chicken pieces and potatoes into the oven.

“About how much longer until dinner?”

Peter doesn’t look up as he says, “At least another 20 to 30 minutes.” He makes a note of the time before turning around, startling as he sees Wade leaning against the wall, everything from the jut of his hip and above clearly on display.

Father Parker wants to ask him what he is doing, what happened to his shirt, and many other questions, but finds himself unable to articulate any of them. Wade slowly approaches him. “Any ideas on how you want to spend the next 30 minutes?”

“I have a few now, thanks to you,” Peter answers honestly, mentally telling himself he doesn’t need to fix any side dishes, not as long as Wade stays shirtless. “Did _you_ have anything in mind?”

“Perhaps. But it might be best if we head to the bedroom… if you’re okay with…”

Peter nods, gesturing for Wade to hurry. Wade chuckles, grabbing Peter’s hand and rushing towards his room. He leads Peter to the bed, sparing no time in pressing him down flat against the mattress as he climbs on top. He kisses him lazily as his hands fumble to unbutton Father Parker’s shirt.

Peter breaks the kiss. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Is… is this too much?” Wade sits back on his heels and gives Father Parker a worried look.

Peter leans up, grabbing Wade by the shoulder to pull him back down. He kisses him gently. “It’s not. I was just wondering what spurred this.”

“One of my favorite scriptures… had been reading it while I was away…” Wade mumbles against Peter’s neck before pressing his lips to it.

Father Parker stills, suddenly feeling guilty. “Scripture?” He feels Wade nod against him.

“Your love is better than wine…” Wade leans back to find Father Parker giving him a confused look, but he decides to press on. He gently caresses Peter’s face as he says, “Behold, thou are beautiful, my love.”

Peter turns his head to kiss the palm of Wade’s hand. Wade carefully moves Father Parker’s face back towards him as he leans in closer. “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for thy love is better than wine.”

“Ah… Song of Solomon…” Peter murmurs just before Wade presses his lips against him. Peter tries to deepen the kiss, but Wade pulls back slightly. It is enough to break the kiss, but Wade stays close as he says, “If I found you outside, I would kiss you, and none would disapprove.”

Wade sits back further, rolling onto one hip as he lays on his side next to Father Parker. Giving Peter a contemplative look, Wade says, “Actually… I don’t think we should…”

Father Parker rolls his eyes. “But we’re not outside, so…”

“Right!” Wade fakes a look of epiphany before leaning over, gently kissing Peter on the forehead. “But even so… with great delight, I sat in his shadow, and his fruit was sweet to my taste."

He holds Peter’s face gently in his hand, his thumb brushing past his bottom lip as he says, “Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your mouth is lovely.”

He kisses both cheeks before saying, “Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil.”

He presses Father Parker further into the mattress as he kisses his throat. “Your neck is like the tower of David. You are altogether beautiful, my love, there is no flaw in you.”

Father Parker feels Wade working on the last few buttons of his shirt as he says, “Thine lips drip nectar, honey and milk are under your tongue.” Peter suddenly remembers the last time he heard those words spoken by Wade and how much it stirred him. He barely has time to think about whether or not his heart is beating harder now than it did the first time when Wade pulls Peter’s shirt open, splaying his hands across his chest.

Wade sits up, kneeling next to Peter as he whispers, “You have captivated my heart with one glance of your eyes…” Father Parker watches as Wade’s eyes follow his hands down Peter’s torso, causing a chill down his spine. When Wade’s hands reach the top of Father Parker’s pants, he looks back up into Peter’s eyes. “Open to me my dove, for my head is filled with the drops of the night.”

Peter swallows before gasping out a breath. When he feels Wade’s fingertip tracing back and forth across the bit of skin just above the button of his slacks, he nods at Wade.

Wade immediately starts undoing Father Parker’s pants, as he says, “Behold, thou art fair, my love. Behold, thou art fair.” Wade smirks at the irony of his own words, realizing that Father Parker’s pale skin is now flushed, the color spreading far beyond his chest.

He manages to remove Father Parker’s slacks, tossing them haphazardly across the room. He takes his time trailing his eyes back up Father Parker’s body. Dragging his hands across the soft skin, Wade feels every muscle he can find. He traces his fingers across Peter’s hip, over his ribs, circling around his nipples, before finding his way back up to Peter’s face.

“Thine eyes are as doves behind the veil and comely is thy mouth. His lips are like lilies, dripping liquid myrrh.” Wade kisses Peter hard, licking into his mouth and running his hands through Peter’s hair, eliciting a moan from him. Father Parker wraps his arms around Wade’s neck, trying to press him closer to himself. Wade pulls back and murmurs against Father Parker’s lips. “Mouth like fine wine.”

Father Parker chuckles as Wade kisses him once more. Peter turns, gently pushing Wade until he rolls over, now laying on his back on the other side of the bed. Peter maneuvers himself to straddle Wade’s hips, his hands gently caressing the body now beneath him. Wade rests both hands on Father Parker’s thighs as he looks up at him, brow quirking.

“You’re always spoiling me. Let me return the favor.”

Wade gapes at him for a moment before a grin overtakes his face.

Father Parker kisses him lightly, then works his mouth across Wade’s shoulder, down his arm, leaving a lingering kiss to the inside of his elbow. “Thine arms are rods of gold, set with jewels.” He then moves over to kiss the middle of Wade’s chest, over his heart. “His body is polished ivory, bedecked with sapphires.”

Father Parker kisses Wade’s chest one more time before he slides down Wade’s body. He slips lower as he kisses and licks a trail towards the hem of Wade’s pants. He glances up at Wade when he feels his chin hit the top of Wade’s erection. They lock eyes as Father Parker drags his fingertips down Wade’s side, tucking them into the waistband of his pants. “May I?”

Wade’s breathing hard as he nods fervently. Peter makes quick work of Wade’s pants, yanking them down and gasping when he sees Wade’s erection spring free. Father Parker pauses for a moment when he realizes his plan to tease Wade through his underwear will not work if Wade is not wearing any. Gathering his composure as best he can, he moves closer towards Wade’s member. He sees Wade watching him intently, his jaw slack. Slowly, Father Parker opens his mouth as he draws near, enjoying the sound of Wade’s labored breathing. At the last possible second, Father Parker turns and kisses Wade’s hip. He grips at the muscles in Wade’s legs as he kisses over the top of his thigh, towards the inside. “His legs are alabaster columns, set on bases of gold.”

Father Parker glances up at Wade, and he grins at the needy look staring back at him. Repositioning himself to sit besides Wade, Peter leans up to kiss him. As Wade gently nips at Peter’s bottom lip, Father Parker reaches down and spreads the precum on Wade’s tip around the head with his thumb, eliciting a low moan from him. Father Parker deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue into Wade’s mouth as he continues to work him with his hand. He eventually pulls back and whispers, “His mouth is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable.”

Wade smirks at the words before diving in to give Peter a chaste kiss. He reaches down to get his hand on Peter’s erection as well, but Father Parker slides further away. Sighing, Wade throws his head back against the pillow, deciding to just enjoy the feeling of Father Parker’s soft hands on him. But then he’s gasping and clinging to the sheets when he feels a sudden hot dampness swallow him whole. He looks down to see Father Parker hunched over, his wet lips wrapped around the head. Wade reaches down, placing a hand on Father Parker’s back, causing him to hum in response. He groans against the vibrations, trying not to buck up into Peter’s mouth as he hums again, and Wade grits his teeth. Looking down at him, Wade catches Peter pulling off just enough to grin up at him. A second later, his mouth back on Wade, but this time, Peter takes in as much of the shaft as he can manage. Wade reaches up and grips the pillows, closing his eyes tightly. He wills his body to hold out, to enjoy this as long as possible, but Wade has not touched himself since before he left on his mission, and there is no way he can last with the way Father Parker is working his mouth.

“Peter… I’m close…” Wade warns him in between panted breaths, but Father Parker maintains his pace, taking in most of Wade in his mouth and making up for the rest with his hand, now slick with spit. Wade moans loudly when he climaxes, feeling the heat in Father Parker’s mouth increase with his release. A low whimper escapes the back of his throat as the sensation of Peter’s lips and tongue still pressing against him starts to become too much. Thankfully, Father Parker removes himself, sitting upright as he stretches out his back, wiping a thumb across one of the corners of his lips.

Wade takes a moment to catch his breath, admiring the sight of Father Parker before him. He rolls over, grabbing onto him. “Mouth like fine wine, indeed. You seem to know just how to make me dizzy with pleasure, but at the same time crave more.”

Father Parker chuckles slightly before squirming against Wade’s grasp.

“I should probably check on the food.”

“There’s no way it has been a half hour already.”

“No, but there are other things to do.”

Wade buries his face in the crook of Peter’s neck, whining loudly against it. “But I want to make you feel amazing as well.” He tightens his hold around Father Parker, and both men lay there for a moment.

“Perhaps… if you don’t mind, that is… I could stay tonight…”

Wade quickly lifts his head. “I do not mind at all!”

Father Parker grins at him before tapping Wade’s arm, prompting him to let go. But Wade remains close, trying his best to keep touching Father Parker throughout the rest of the evening. His hands wander as Father Parker tries to get dressed again, ultimately giving up on putting his shirt back on. As they finish cooking dinner, Wade stays near, intentionally causing their fingers to brush. He keeps a hand on Father Parker’s thigh while they eat, and he stays closer still as they clear the table. Once the last dish is placed in the sink, Wade picks Peter up.

“Wade!” Father Parker tries to scold, but his laughter at the end cuts through the seriousness of his tone.

Wade walks them towards his bedroom, holding Peter tightly to himself. “I do believe it’s now my turn to spoil you.”

And he does, taking his time to please Father Parker, to memorize his body as if it is scripture that can save his wayward soul because, for Wade, that is what Peter has become.

His love for Father Parker is the closest he has ever felt to salvation.


	42. Aug 25, 1958

For the next month, Father Parker and Wade continue to spend time together far more than a clergyman should ever spend with just one member of the congregation. They still kiss and allow their hands to wander, but nothing sexual has happened since Wade returned from his last mission. Both men fall into an easy rhythm with each other, having set days where Father Parker stays the night or Wade comes over to cook dinner. And each Sunday afternoon, they have lunch together after the service concludes. Then they read silently, Father Parker’s legs draped over Wade’s lap as they lounge on the couch.

However, this Sunday, they have to cut their time together short when Father Parker suddenly remembers the list of repairs that he should have given Wade yesterday. Peter fetches the list for him, then leads the way to the church so he can see what needs to be done and when.

The last item on the docket involves the stairs, the same ones with the loose railing that previously caused a minor rift in their relationship.

Father Parker sneaks a glance around the room before gently grabbing Wade’s hand. He notices Wade stiffen next to him, so he whispers, “It’s fine, no one else-” He cuts himself off when Wade squeezes his hand back, relaxing his shoulders. “But this board here,” Father Parker sticks out his foot, pointing to the bottom step. “It seems to be loose now, and the children were playing with it.”

“Making it worse, no doubt, and probably getting splinters.”

“Exactly, and they have that special class tomorrow morning so…”

Wade squeezes his hand once more before letting go. “I’ll get right on it.”

Father Parker nods and turns away. He only manages a few steps before he turns back around, gently placing a hand on Wade’s shoulder, who is now kneeling by the stairs to assess the damage.

Wade jerks his head up. “Was there something else?”

“Do you still want to go on that picnic tomorrow?” Father Parker whispers.

Wade grins, nodding fervently. “Of course. Where did you want to go? And what about the food? And-”

“Hush!” Father Parker laughs breathily. “I’ll worry about all the details. You just study some scripture before you arrive.”

“Scripture? Are we working on another homily or-”

Father Parker leans down and murmurs, “Song of Solomon chapter seven sounds good. Particularly verses eleven and twelve. I’d focus on that if I were you.”

Father Parker watches as Wade mouths the verse numbers, his brow furrowed in confusion. He then smirks at Peter. “Song of Solomon?”

Peter gives a slight shrug. “Yes, it seems fitting. It will tell you where to go. Tomorrow around the usual time. Just… study those verses.”

Wade nods. “Alright. I’ll be sure to do that. See you tomorrow.”

Father Parker breathes a sigh of relief.

_I felt foolish telling him in that manner, but he knows his verses so well. It seems he’s already figured it out._

The next morning, Father Parker is sitting on a blanket in the far corner of the field of flowers, closest to the old grape vines by the stream. He is trying to read a book, but after every few lines, he peeks up and looks for Wade. Ten minutes past when Wade is supposed to have arrived, he finally sees him running down the steps on the far side. Father Parker puts his book down and grins at Wade, who is now sprinting full force across the field. He slows as he approaches the blanket, stumbling to a stop before flopping down next to Peter.

Wade speaks between panted breaths. “I’m sorry. I forgot to look up the verse until this morning. Then, I couldn’t remember what you said. I only remembered the chapter, not the verse. So it took me a while to skim through it and piece everything together.”

Father Parker is taken aback. “I thought you had already figured it out, that you had memorized most of that book of the Bible and-”

Wade looks over at Father Parker, still trying to catch his breath. “I know the words, yes. But not the chapter and verse numbers. I know none of those actually.”

Father Parker ponders for a minute before mumbling, “How did I not know that… all this time… after all your help… never once did you mention a specific passage, did you?”

Wade sits up and shakes his head. “Nope. Never. To me, the message itself seems more important than the location of it.”

Peter sits there in shock as Wade leans forward, waggling a finger at him. “But that was clever of you. Very clever. ‘Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field…’” Wade gestures around them before pointing at the part of the old farmer’s vineyard that is still alive. “‘Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth…’”

_“There I will give you my love.”_

Wade then gets lost in his thoughts of the last line he can’t bring himself to say aloud, thinking about its implications of a holy union between two lovers and the honeymoon that follows. He wonders what it would be like to freely love Peter, to be open with his affections. He daydreams about the day he asks Peter to stay with him, to be his entirely, much like he’s already hinted at a few times before. But then a bead of sweat drips into his eye, finally pulling him back to the world around him.

He notices that Peter is looking around at the field as he fans himself, so he asks, “Did you pick this place because of the isolation?”

Peter nods. “Of course.”

“So… can I kiss you?”

Father Parker responds by placing both hands on Wade’s lap as he leans towards him, and Wade gingerly presses his lips to his. When Peter pulls back, he resumes fanning himself again and asks, “Do you think it’s safe to swim in the stream?”

Wade is already unlacing his boots as he says, “Certainly! I used to cool off there all the time. I still do on the rare occasions I find myself over here.”

Father Parker and Wade strip down to their underwear and race towards the water, Wade shouting the whole way while waving his arms in the air. Soon both men are wading in the stream, splashing each other. Wade occasionally stops in order to pull Peter in and gently kiss him on the cheek or forehead, but that is only until he starts splashing Peter again.

When Peter begins to feel too chilled, he fights through Wade’s current onslaught of water to bypass him, heading towards the rocks on the edge. He sits on the largest one, hissing at the unexpected heat it offers from the summer sun. The water comes up past his knees when he scoots forward to dip his legs back in the water.

Wade watches him the whole time, slowly inching closer. Once Peter seems settled, Wade moves fast and doesn’t stop until he’s in Peter’s space. He surges forward, arms on either side of Peter with his palms pressed flat on the rock, pushing Peter to lean back as well. Almost losing his balance, Peter jerks his arms out, one behind him to stop himself from falling against the rock and the other towards Wade, hand landing roughly on his chest. Wade simply moves closer, causing Father Parker’s breath to hitch as he feels the skin slick beneath his hand. When Wade is close enough to brush his lips against Peter’s cheek, he whispers, “Mind if I get lunch set up? I’m starving.”

Peter freezes for a moment before he sighs heavily. “Yes, yes, go right ahead.”

Wade straightens up suddenly, pulling Peter along with him so that he’s no longer awkwardly reclined against the rock. “Thanks! I didn’t even have time for coffee this morning.” He exits the stream before Peter can respond.

Father Parker places a hand over his chest, willing his heart to calm down. Looking over his shoulder, he spots Wade staring back at him, chuckling.

_That scoundrel knew exactly what he was doing!_

Peter rushes to catch up with Wade. Using their shirts to towel off, they get dressed with what other clothes they have left, leaving the rest by the edge of the blanket to dry in the sun. As Peter works on splaying out his shirt to dry as quickly as possible, Wade kneels down and begins unpacking the picnic basket Peter packed. He pulls out containers of meats and cheeses, bowls of small fruit, and a bundle of cloth containing small slices of bread and crackers.

Wade looks over his shoulders and asks, “Were you attempting to make a charcuterie board for our picnic?”

“Yes, actually. I had thought of bringing wine, but I do not have any. To be honest, I had a fleeting thought to sneak some of the communion wine out, but, well,” Father Parker gives an uncomfortable laugh. “I can’t begin to describe all the ways in which that would be wrong.”

Wade smirks at him as he stands. He steps closer to Peter, placing a hand on his cheek as he kisses him softly. “I’d much rather have _your_ fine wine.”

Father Parker gently pushes him away, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as usual, but Wade notices the blush that is playing on his cheeks. Peter sits on the blanket and Wade lies down beside him, picking up a grape and popping it into his mouth while watching Peter arrange all the food.

His eyes travel from Peter’s hands, up his slender arms, then down his torso, taking full advantage of Peter being shirtless in broad daylight. There are a few thin rolls on Peter’s stomach from where he is hunched over in order to move the basket to the other side of the blanket. Wade notices them and reaches over with one hand, feeling the soft skin, his thumb tracing along the groove of one.

Peter jerks away from the touch but continues to arrange the picnic. Wade pokes one of the smaller rolls again.

“Touching my fat?” Father Parker asks quietly, glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

Wade sits up and tries placing a hand on Father Parker’s stomach, forcing him to sit up straight as he swats at Wade’s hands. “I don’t see any fat. In fact, you could probably do with more food. Perhaps I should feed you more often.”

Peter eyes Wade as he crosses his arms across his torso, a bundle of crackers still in his hand. “I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that.”

Wade scoots closer, taking the food from Peter and setting it down in the middle of the charcuterie. “How about every day?”

“Every day? How could you possibly-”

“I’m serious! I want to make dinner for you every day. Or lunch. Or whatever. I just want…”

“I would love that,” Peter replies quietly, as he places a slice of prosciutto onto a thin sliver of bread, feeding it to Wade. Wade grins at Peter while he chews, already planning out a list of meals he wants to make for him.

They lounge on the blanket, slowly devouring the charcuterie as they gossip about recent events in town. Wade gives Peter insight on certain problems since he knows more about the history of the town and its residents.

After consuming a decent amount of their food, Wade rolls onto his side, facing away from Peter.

“What are you doing?”

Wade does not respond but instead turning back towards Peter with a flower in his hand. He reaches up towards Father Parker, who tries to duck away from him.

“What _are_ you doing!?”

“Just hold still for a moment!”

Peter doesn’t, dodging Wade’s strange gesture. Wade moves to sit up on his knees, leaning over Father Parker and preventing him from evading his hand. He stills as Wade takes the plucked flower, tucking it behind his ear. He leans back on his heels, satisfied with himself.

Father Parker pulls away, reaching for another flower. Once plucked, he mimics Wade’s actions, placing the stem behind Wade’s ears.

“Am I pretty now?” Wade bats his eyes while his lips are in an exaggerated pucker.

Peter chuckles softly. “How beautiful you are and how pleasant.”

“Oh, I see someone is still thinking about the Song of Sol-” Wade freezes for a moment when there is a rustling in the bushes, having seen it more than heard it. He turns his head slowly, watching the bush shake, then the one next to it, then the next as if whatever is behind them is moving further away.

“Is something the matter?”

Wade can see Father Parker in his periphery, turning to look at what has Wade’s attention. Right as Wade begins to stand, a large grey rabbit emerges from the bush, hopping a few paces away before stilling. Another, smaller, rabbit darts out of the bush, scattering leaves as it emerges. This rabbit runs towards the larger one before coming to a stop right alongside the other. Wade breathes out a sigh of relief.

_Now I understand how Father Parker feels when we’re out in public._

Wade turns back to Peter, noting how he’s still watching the rabbits and grinning broadly. “So, you really like it here?”

Father Parker nods. “Of course. I feel safer here. It feels more isolated than my rectory will ever be, well, usually,” Father Parker says, gesturing to the rabbits who are now scurrying off across the field. “Besides, this is pretty much my ideal place.”

“This?” Wade asks incredulously, turning to look at the ruins of his old home, then to the parts of the vineyard that have long since died. “This is your ideal place?”

Peter nods as he finishes his last bite of cheese before packing away all their food. He continues repacking the basket as he says, “Wish I wasn’t required to live at the rectory because this is the kind of place I’d want to live.”

Wade takes a bowl from Peter, popping the last of the grapes into his mouth before helping him clean up. He thinks of Peter’s last statement as he stares at the remains of his old cabin. “So how is this the kind of place where you want to live? What does your dream home look like?”

Peter places the last few items in the basket and lounges back on the blanket. He ponders as he looks around the field before answering. “I imagine a home much like the rectory. Small, simple, cozy, though I would like to have a fireplace as you do and perhaps more shelves for books in the spare room. I had quite the collection ranging from science texts to short fiction stories, but that was before I joined the ministry. And I would love to have a garden too; to be honest, I keep thinking about that promise you made me a while ago, about the garden so large I would feel like I’m living here in this field. I mean, I do want some produce as well since having the community garden right outside my door has spoiled me.

"But the main thing is this field. I would love to walk outside my home and have a view just like this, more flowers than I can count. Yet, at the same time, my cozy little home wouldn’t be so isolated. I’d still be close enough to town to go shopping, get my hair cut, meet up with friends, all the typical stuff one does. Though, I would prefer it to be a much bigger town than this. I’ve grown accustomed to simpler living out of necessity, but there are times where I still feel as out of place as I did the day I moved here. It’s just a little too small for me. Oh! And of course I would want more than just the field of flowers. I’d have a walking path with a trellis or two along it, and maybe even-”

Father Parker clamps his mouth shut and looks over to Wade.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry. I was rambling on and about dreams that I shouldn’t even bother to wish for, not with my life and my commitments as they are now.” Father Parker struggles to suppress a sigh as he looks over to their clothes, now dried, and grabs his shirt.

Wade inches closer, pulling Peter to him so he can kiss his forehead, interrupting him as he attempts to button up his shirt.

“If I wasn’t dedicated to the church, to the faith, to the expectations I must strive to reach,” Father Parker gives an uneasy, breathy laugh. “I would want to spend forever in a field of flowers instead.”

“Well, what about the flowers by the church? I know it’s only a couple of rows right now, but I’ve been meaning to ask you about making the garden bigger since it’s just an empty lawn anyways. I’m pretty much the only one who walks there. Perhaps we can give back to the community more by planting a bigger variety of vegetables, and I’ll be sure the rows nearest the rectory are all your favorite flowers.”

Father Parker smiles softly at Wade as he reaches over and gently grabs his hand. “That’s a lovely thought, and I do appreciate it. Perhaps we can talk about the _vegetable_ garden portion at the next meeting and go from there. But even if you could somehow transform half that garden into flowers, it still wouldn’t be the same.”

“How so? I mean, I could extend the flowerbeds by the-”

Father Parker squeezes Wade’s hand. “Yes, there could be a field there, one as big as the one here, but it’s… it’s not the same… the freedom will still be absent.”

“Oh,” Wade exhales softly. He tries to say something, to tell Father Parker he can relate, but all he manages to do is nod slowly.

_My lack of freedom isn’t the same. I’m just trying to repay a friend and find forgiveness for my sins. His lack of freedom is everything. His job, his faith, his entire life, all of it is dedicated to the Mission. And with his past constantly being questioned, he has little to no choice in any of his major life decisions. Even something as simple as flowers in front of the clergy house are not his to make._

_If I could give up some of my freedom for him to have just-_

“What about you?”

“Pardon?” Wade says loudly, jerking his heads towards Peter who is trying hard not to laugh.

“I was wondering about your dream place or dream life, for that matter. What if you didn’t have this other job of yours, or if you had never met Al, where would you be?”

Wade removes the flower from behind his ear and twirls the stem around in his fingers, watching the petals blur in a spiral of sunset hues. “I used to think about where I would be if not here, but now… I’m not sure. I might not even be in France, but I certainly wouldn’t be in Germany, Italy, or Hungary, not by choice at least.”

“Well, where did you _used to_ think you’d rather be?”

“Anywhere, literally anywhere but here. You’re not the only one still not used to such a small town, and I’ve been here far longer than you. I used to dream about being any other place but here. I hated my life here; I hated it so much.

"There were times I would be on a mission, and I would feel like a hero; I would save so many people and see them smiling, some with tears in their eyes, happy to be finally feel safe or at least have the hope of safety, even if the mission still wasn’t technically over. It was a brief feeling of purpose in the dark cloud of my life. And in those moments, I would think, ‘If I could choose when to die, this would have been a perfect moment.’ No matter what joy I had in helping people, I felt no reason to stay on this Earth otherwise. And to end it all, on such a high note, would have felt good. I hate to admit this, but I’ve been careless on missions before, knowing the objective had already been achieved, but not caring if I managed to survive by the end.”

Father Parker scoots closer to Wade, closing the distance between them. He wraps an arm around Wade and sighs heavily into his shoulder. “I certainly hope you’re no longer feeling that way, nor are acting carelessly on missions.”

Peter yelps in surprise when Wade grabs him, pulling him up into his lap. He tries to protest, but Wade just holds him tighter, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Soon Peter gives in, hugging Wade back and patting him gently. Wade lifts his head and leaves kisses on Peter’s cheek, the action drawing complaint from Peter once more.

“No, I don’t feel that way anymore, and I’m as cautious as I can be on missions, though you might not believe that.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

Wade rolls his eyes. “Well, I _am_.” He places two fingers under Father Parker’s chin, tilting it towards him until he can place a tender kiss on Peter’s parted lips.

“I’m sorry you had to endure so much in your life.”

Wade shrugs before dipping down to kiss Peter again. “All the past turmoil in my life was worth it, because it led me to you. So, I’m happy here, but I could honestly be content most anywhere since I don’t really care where I am. I could be roughing it on a mission, be living in Al’s cabin with that old lady smell, or be sitting in a field of flowers exactly as you imagined. I’m adaptable. As-”

“You do seem the sort,” Father Parker interrupts with a chuckle. “To be honest, it’s one of the reasons why I look up to you so much.”

“You? Look up to me?” Wade can hear his voice pitching higher with each word, but he cannot help himself. “How on earth-”

“Hush! I’m serious! You live in such a small, bigoted town, one that uses the church for their own agenda at times, and then there’s your whole side job and reputation. Through it all, you still manage to handle everything with such grace.”

Wade rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t say all that. You wouldn’t think the same if you knew half the thoughts that go through my head sometimes.”

“Perhaps, but you have the strength to not act on them.”

“Uh, I suppose so. I admit that it can be difficult at times, but it has to be something drastic before I ever lash out or even leave, life-altering drastic. Otherwise, like I said, I’m adaptable.” Wade smiles at Peter before nuzzling close, trying to suppress a terrible thought from emerging.

_He should know by now that I’m fine wherever I am, as long as he is there. He’s the only part that matters. I may be adaptable, but I can’t see myself adapting to life without Peter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some character doodles for this fic. :) Gonna post on tumblr once I get access to a scanner. I will draw a few more so lemme know what characters you wanna see.


	43. Sep 3-23, 1958

Since their picnic, Wade stops by for dinner every night except whenever there’s a special evening service. On those days, Wade stops by for lunch. Peter tells him it’s not necessary, but Wade insists each time, claiming to be a man of his word.

“I said I would cook every day, and that includes today.”

The only other exception is Wednesday nights, when Father Parker goes to Wade’s cabin to work on sermons and homilies. Once done, he simply spends time with Wade until dinner and always stays the night with him.

This starts purely on accident the second Wednesday after their picnic. Father Parker ends up falling asleep on Wade twice before he can convince Peter to join him in bed. Peter admits that his demands as a priest have increased greatly since the diocese appointed him with extra responsibilities, so he is starting to feel drained.

“Can’t pour into others with an empty cup,” Wade says as he carries him to bed.

From then on, Father Parker made sure he takes every Wednesday afternoon off. He still works on sermons and homilies, but he does it away from town with Wade by his side.

One Wednesday late in September, Father Parker has a hard time finding a chance to escape to Wade’s cabin with the number of people seeking religious counsel, wanting to confess, and to bicker about an issue within the ladies’ group.

When Father Parker realizes the issue with the ladies’ group is based on personal prejudices and gossip within the group, he tells the women to reflect on what Jesus might say about their behavior and to work it out amongst themselves. After that, Peter manages to sneak away, walking more briskly than usual towards Wade’s cabin.

Once there, he plops down on the couch, completely exhausted. He closes his eyes and sighs heavily.

“You alright?”

“I’m taking the day off.”

“Isn’t that why you come here, to-”

“No. A complete day off. No homily, no sermons. I just want to pray, read, eat, and sleep. That’s it.”

Father Parker peeks an eye open when he feels Wade kissing the top of his head.

“Then you shall do just that. Go ahead and pray and read and whatever else you need to do. I have something I need to finish, but I’ll join you on the couch soon.”

Father Parker watches as Wade sits down at the dining room table, hunching over as he writes something. Curiosity gets the best of Peter and soon, he sneaks up behind Wade to take a peek. Father Parker barely sees the words ‘east of Bordeaux’ before Wade quickly covers the words with his hands.

“Sorry, was just curious,” Father Parker says quietly, taking a few steps back.

Wade reaches out and pulls him closer, but he positions his body to hide the letters. “It’s fine. It’s just information about work.”

“You’re leaving?”

“In about a week. Should be gone for about five days.”

Father Parker nods, kissing him briefly before heading back to the couch. “Do the good deed.”

They spend most of the evening lounging about, and eventually, Father Parker feels rested enough to begin drafting up a broad outline for his next sermon. Wade takes the pen from him, telling him that he’s defeating the purpose of his day of rest. “I promise you, you’re going to regret this by Sunday when you burn out again.”

Before falling asleep, Peter grabs one of Wade’s hands, gently kissing each fingertip before thanking him.

“Whatever for?”

“For supporting me on my day of rest. Though I didn’t get to work on the homily, I feel a lot better and know I’ll be able to tackle it more efficiently later.”

Wade pulls him close, burying his face into Peter’s hair. “Of course. I know you’ll get your work done eventually, and you know yourself best. If you need a break, then you should take one.”

“I’d much rather take a vacation at this point.”

“Then let’s do it.”

“What!?” Peter turns his body so he can look Wade in the eye. “How would we ever pull that off?”

“Your predecessor would take vacations from time to time. I’m sure if you write to the right person in the diocese, they’ll find someone to cover you for just one Sunday. Then we could travel for a bit.”

Father Parker takes a minute to think about it, wondering if it would be possible.

_I could make a case for myself, saying it’s been years since I was able to go visit the graves of Aunt May and Uncle Ben…_

“What do you say?” Wade asks, squeezing Peter’s shoulders.

“Let me think about it after next Sunday. I feel like there might be some drama thanks to the ladies’ group, and I would like for that to pass before I even think about an out-of-town trip.”

Wade nods, grinning slightly, before kissing Peter good night.

The next morning, Father Parker returns home to find Deacon Duguay walking away from the priory. Peter tries to make his steps light, but the deacon still notices him, turning suddenly and rushing towards him.

“Where have you been!? We’ve been looking all over for you!”

“What could be the matter so early in the morning?”

“It’s not just this morning. We’ve been looking for you since yesterday. As the priest, you should be here and-”

“As the priest, I should be able to pour into the congregation as needed to help stay on the path and to lead lost souls to the Lord. All of which is impossible if I’m pouring from an empty cup.”

“But the ladies’ group have-”

“So, if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to go fill my cup with prayer and coffee. I’ll be free to deal with the ladies’ group in an hour. No sooner.”

Father Parker feels taken aback at his own tone, so when he slides past Deacon Duguay and enters his home, he makes sure to close the door gently behind him.

As Peter gets ready for his day, he feels an inkling of guilt and has a fleeting thought that he is neglecting his congregation. He immediately starts to pray over it, but soon feels the need to take it back, reminding himself that tending to his own needs is vital to the care of the church.

_I need to stick to my convictions._

That Friday, Father Parker holds a meeting with the other clergy and church leaders to remind them of a few things. He discusses allowing divisions in the church, such as what happened with the ladies’ group. He reminds them not to aid the spread of malicious gossip but to stop it and encourage community instead. Finally, he reminds the clergy to take time for themselves, to fill their own cups with goodwill and prayer so that they can serve the Lord to the best of their ability.

Father Parker hopes this meeting will encourage the men of the cloth, but as they shuffle out of the room, Peter notices that at least half of the congregation seems more displeased now than when they entered.

_Can’t win them all. Let’s just hope it’s simply guilt that’s causing their scowls, that they seek penance for whatever may have caused that guilt._

The next day, Father Parker is working in his office when Deacon Duguay and Deacon Lasalle ask him to join them in the children’s Confraternity of Christian Doctrine room to discuss the new curriculum. After an hour of discussion, Deacon Lasalle leaves to give the new curriculum list to the CCD instructors while Deacon Duguay follows Father Parker back to his office to retrieve some resource materials. Father Parker goes to his bookshelf to find the items needed when he hears Deacon Duguay ask, “Do you take cuttings of the flowers from outside?”

Father Parker pauses in confusion. “Cuttings of flowers? I- no. I don’t. Why?”

When Deacon Duguay doesn’t respond, Peter turns around. He follows the deacon’s gaze down towards his empty coffee mug, but it is no longer empty. There are three flowers now inside, splayed out in different directions. Father Parker barely has time to recognize that they are the same kind of flowers in the rectory garden before Deacon Duguay says, “When you made all that noise about ‘pouring from an empty cup’ did that include flowers from a sinner?”

Duguay’s tone is so vicious that Father Parker does not even have a moment to gather his thoughts. Instead he goes with his visceral reaction, raising his voice as he asks, “Noise!? Sinner!? What are you getting at?”

“Well, I have never seen these flowers anywhere else besides the community garden. I don’t even understand why the community needs flowers in a vegetable garden, but I digress… Since you admit that it wasn’t you who cut them, it had to have been Mr. Wilson. He’s the only one ever in the garden. Even the flowers for the altar are cut by him, no one else, so it has to be him.”

Father Parker hastily hands the resources over to Deacon Duguay. “Thank you for solving that mystery. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go back through the list of duties and find the _deacon_ in charge of delegating the altar flowers each week.”

Peter feels a spark of vindication in his chest when he sees Deacon Duguay set his jaw firmly before storming out of the office. Father Parker knows it is Duguay’s job to find a different person each week to do the flower arrangement, considering how much he had complained about the task the first year or so Peter was here. He also remembers that Deacon Duguay was the only one not in favor of the community garden being revived.

_So what does it matter to him if there’s vegetables, flowers, or even poison ivy in the garden? He was quite vocal on how he wanted nothing to do with it._

But what bothers Father Parker the most was Duguay’s use of the term ‘sinner’ to describe Wade. Father Parker believes that Wade has finally become a welcomed member of the community and the church some time ago. He even has lunch with Deacon Lasalle’s family on occasions. Peter doesn’t expect the same with Deacon Duguay, but he had believed the animosity to be gone. Yet, the guttural way Duguay said that word makes Peter realize the animosity is only in hiding.

Father Parker tries to work, he tries to pray, but ultimately decides to give in to his urges and go find Wade to warn him about any more public acts of service in front of Deacon Duguay, hoping he can phrase it in a manner that isn’t condemning Wade's behavior nor contributing to the gossip surrounding it.

Father Parker finds Wade outside, picking tomatoes. He looks over towards the rows of flowers and notices a bush on the far end, the one where his flowers most likely came from, that has been picked clean and pruned back, looking almost nothing like its neighbor beside it.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite priest in town!”

Peter looks at him confused. “I’m the only priest in town.”

“But you’re still my favorite.”

Father Parker shakes his head before stating, “So, I noticed the flowers in my mug…”

“Right! Sorry about that. I was trying to prune and get the altar flowers ready. I always cut a few shorter ones to give to any of the ladies working, but I didn’t see any today. I didn’t want to trash them so…” Wade shrugs and bends back over, picking another tomato.

Father Parker isn’t sure if he should remind Wade about certain public demonstrations of affection since his intent with the flowers is clearly not a romantic one. Instead, he asks, “How do you get along with Deacon Duguay?”

“I don’t,” Wade says forthwith.

“You don’t?”

Wade shakes his head, standing upright again. “We are civil with each other, but I wouldn’t say we get along. He tends to be quite shrewd and demanding with me, so I’m not looking to become friends. We get our respective work done, so I don’t have any reason to complain.”

Father Parker approaches Wade, gently placing a hand on his arm. “You should have told me.”

Wade reaches over with his other hand and squeezes Peter’s briefly. “It’s no bother to me. Honest.”

Peter forces a smile as he lets his hand fall back to his side. “Well, if he steps out of bounds, please let me know. I know you want to keep the peace, but at the same time, there’s a difference between putting up with terrible conduct from the clergy while trying to build a community.”

Wade smiles at him. “I will keep that in mind.”

The next day, after the church service, Father Parker sees Wade leaving, heading towards the clergy house. They typically have lunch together on Sundays, so Father Parker assumes Wade is heading over earlier and waiting. However, once Peter is free to leave the church, he does not spot Wade waiting by the priory or anywhere in the garden. He can’t bring himself to call out Mr. Wilson’s name, feeling a little too awkward about it, so he wanders the church grounds in search of him. He then sees Wade coming out of the shed, holding a rake.

“Whatever are you doing?”

“I was going to tidy up the grounds until you came out,” Wade says, placing the rake back inside the shed. “Do you mind if we take a quick walk first?”

Father Parker knows what Wade is doing, stalling on heading into the rectory with Peter in case there are still people lingering around the front of the church. He’s done this before, but rarely does he ask Peter to join him. Father Parker nods and leads the way back towards the church, aiming to take a slow lap around it.

They make small talk, Father Parker telling him about the recent changes to the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine classes to fill the silence. When Wade admits that he has no idea what all those classes entail since he did not find faith until later in life, he starts rambling out a series of questions, some serious inquiries about CCD and others more akin to silly musings.

Father Parker allows Wade to continue his onslaught of questions as he takes him by the arm, guiding him closer to the stairs by the back entrance of the church. Wade trails off when Peter stops walking. Before Wade can ask what he is doing, Father Parker tells him to stay where he is, but to turn and face the stairs. Wade gives him a confused glance but complies. Father Parker then stands on the step right in front of Wade, making him tall enough so that he can lean forward and kiss Wade easily without standing on his toes.

“Where did that come from?”

Peter shrugs. “I just appreciate your existence.”

Wade flushes and grins at him, peeking around before he leans over to peck him on the lips quickly. As he pulls back, Peter grabs him by the lapels, cutting his movement short.

“Father Parker! Where did you go?”

Both Peter and Wade startle. Wade takes a step back away from the stairs while Father Parker throws his arms out, trying to not fall down onto the steps when he shifts a leg back. He regains his balance and looks to the source of the sound.

“Yes! Did you need something?” Father Parker asks, hoping he looks more composed than he feels.

“It’s Mr. Sigur,” says Deacon Duguay, standing by the corner of the back wall of the church. “He says he did not receive any information on the changes to the CCD curriculum, and he would like those materials now.”

“I see.” Father Parker steps down from the stairs and rushes past Wade without glancing at him once. He leads Deacon Duguay around the corner of the church as he tells him that Deacon Lasalle should have given out all the information already.

Wade watches as they leave, not liking the glare he receives from Deacon Duguay seconds before he turns the corner.

Father Parker and Wade eventually do have lunch together, but only after a brief conversation about possibly being caught. When Wade points out that there is no way Deacon Duguay would have kept quiet after seeing anything like that, both men feel more at ease. There is an unspoken agreement to stop letting their guard down.

As they lounge in the living room, reading books, Peter can’t help but feel distracted. He wants to tell Wade the other thing that is peculiar about the situation with Deacon Duguay, but he can’t quite articulate it.

_Maybe it’s no big deal that Mr. Sigur had already received all the information needed from Deacon Lasalle. It was probably just a misunderstanding of sorts. Shouldn’t bother Wade with frivolous worry._

The next day, Wade comes over earlier than usual for dinner, hoping to spend some time with Father Parker, but it doesn’t take long for him to notice that Peter is acting strange. He is a bit more distant towards Wade and even distracted at times. It takes until the end of dinner for Wade to reach out and grab Father Parker’s hand.

“I know something is wrong with you. Please tell me.”

With a heavy sigh, Father Parker starts his confession. “Last night, I woke from a cold sweat all because of a dream. Though, it was more like a memory… of the time I got caught with Harry.” Peter glances away when Wade makes a pained expression. “I haven’t had this dream, well, nightmare, in quite some time, probably over a year now. But this time, it was different. Usually it is just a recollection; at most, there are a few exaggerated parts, such as the number of clergy in the room whenever they discuss my fate, but this time… when I see them pulling Harry away, and he’s looking back at me, it isn’t Harry… it’s you.”

Father Parker looks up at Wade and instantly regrets it. The guilt Wade is expressing bodily cuts Peter deep, his chest aches. He turns his hand in Wade’s, squeezing it. “Please don’t blame yourself. This has-”

Wade moves his hand away, standing suddenly, and Father Parker feels his stomach drop. Then Wade takes a few quick strides around the table, pulling Peter up out of his chair. Before Father Parker can ask what is happening, Wade wraps his arms around Peter and holds him close.

“As I said yesterday, this is Deacon Duguay we’re talking about. He would have immediately reacted to the situation and called for Heaven’s armies to come down and destroy us both.” Father Parker exhales a laugh into Wade’s chest. “He didn’t say a word, so clearly he didn’t see anything. It seemed to me that he was calling out to you before he even turned that corner. But for both our sanities, I’m going to make sure we do better about keeping hands to ourselves outside our homes.”

Peter gives Wade a pained laugh. “It’s so hard growing up in a country that accepts me, but being devoted to something like the church which doesn’t. I thought… I thought being more devout would help me overcome it, if it really is a sin… not find someone that actually makes me feel complete despite it all.”

Wade hugs him tighter, not sure what to say.

“Even with bad moments like this, I’m still glad I found you.”

“Like a stray pet sitting outside the church? Wait, no, that’s exactly what-” Wade cuts himself off with a laugh when Father Parker groans in annoyance.

Peter leans back against Wade’s arms just enough to look up at him. “You’re still leaving tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I do have time to make you lunch if you want.”

Father Parker smiles at him. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

That night, Father Parker has the same nightmare. Except Harry isn’t in it at all; it’s Wade. And the look of fear and sadness on Wade’s face as he is being dragged away, putting up much more of a fight than Harry ever did, is enough to cause Peter to weep the moment he wakes.

As soon as Wade arrives the next morning, Peter tells him about the nightmare and how he can’t help but be a little on edge, especially around Deacon Duguay.

“I don’t know what it is. I know I’m being irrational, but I just… I don’t even feel safe here anymore. In all honesty, I feel like I must wander the town after you leave because I don’t want to be in my own home. It’s still connected to the Church, and I simply-”

Wade cuts Father Parker off with a kiss. “Hush, now. You have nothing to worry about. The near-miss was just too soon for you to fully process it. Trust me, a part of me feels the same way. And if you don’t feel okay here, please go somewhere you do feel comfortable while I’m gone. Just… stay safe until I’m back. It should only be five days and-”

“But what if Deacon Duguay or the diocese-”

“If anything does happen, please go. Just go. Go straight to my cabin. No one will bother you there. Promise me you’ll do that.”

Father Parker nods, promising to go, and he does, later that night after the third nightmare. He can’t seem to fall back asleep, so he decides to work on a sermon to distract his mind. He finds Uncle Ben’s Bible in Wade’s room, and upon spotting a bookmark, he opens it to the 1st Epistle of John. He skims a few lines until he finds a verse that makes his chest ache.

_‘There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment.’_

Peter scoffs and puts the Bible back down, glancing around Wade’s empty cabin.

_What I fear the most right now is the punishment of loving someone. But why should I fear the repercussions of my love when I serve a God who is supposed to be love Himself?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have way too many playlists for this fic. Decided to take a few songs from all of them and put them all into one playlist, although it’s not really organized to flow from one song to the next, so I hesitate to call it a “playlist.” Just think of it as a collection of songs that made me think of this story.  
> I’ve been waiting to post because spoilers, but now seems like a good time to post it.  
> [ Click here if you wanna listen to it.](https://open.spotify.com/embed/playlist/5EH5ICa6jtRny89mMNGaF1)  
> Enjoy!!


	44. Oct 4-5, 1958

Wade wakes and sits up to stretch, but as he peeks an eye open, his movements slow; he’s suddenly hypervigilant of his surroundings. It takes him a few seconds, but once he realizes he’s in a hospital, he wastes no time quickly gathering his personal effects and rushing out of the room. As he turns a corner, he nearly collides with two nurses. He hears the contents of the trays they were carrying clatter to the ground, but he cannot spare a second more to help them pick the items up or apologize. He sprints through a few halls, trying to find an exit. Even after he makes it outside, he doesn’t stop running until he can no longer see the shape of the hospital behind him.

Struggling to catch his breath, Wade heads down a side alley. Now away from prying eyes, he feels himself for any injuries, only managing to find some gauze taped to the back of his head and some bandages on his left hand. He paces slowly, trying to steady his breathing as he rubs at the back of his head in an attempt to feel for any broken or swollen skin from where he was hit with a blunt object just before the end of his mission.

 _I haven’t woken up in a hospital in_ years _. Must be getting rusty._

As he tries to calm down, thankful that he escaped before he was caught with _miraculously healed_ wounds, he reflects on the struggles of his most recent mission. It was supposed to be a five-day mission, three days for the actual job and two for travel. But the issues started before he even reached the site, causing him to waste three days just on the journey alone. This has resulted in a cascade effect and now he’s eleven days into his five-day job.

_And it’ll be twelve days total by the time I get home. I really should have written to Peter or given myself more leeway on when I’d be back. I hope he’s not stressed and drowning my plants._

_I shouldn’t joke. He might still be panicking about Duguay. I know that man hates me, but I can’t imagine how awful he’ll treat Peter if he really does catch us…_

Wade pushes the thoughts aside, feeling guilty for lying to Peter about his certainty that Duguay did not catch them. He couldn’t bring himself to tell him that he, too, is worried, especially not after the way Peter was falling apart from his own guilt.

Sneaking back to the last place he remembers leaving his travel bag, Wade is able to retrieve the rest of his belongings before heading to the train station and beginning his journey home.

_This is going to clear me of funds, but I can’t waste anymore time._

Booking a seat on an overnight train, Wade waits impatiently for the two hours it takes for the train to arrive. He paces around for what feels like an eternity until he sees enough uncomfortable faces to prompt him into finally taking a seat. He tells himself that stressing about the train’s arrival is fruitless and that he needs to calm down, but his body doesn’t want to comply. He keeps fidgeting with his hands, his leg bouncing in place the whole time. Eventually, he hears the train pull into the station and rushes to board. During the trip, his exhaustion eventually overtakes his anxiety, and he drifts off to sleep, though it is restless and not nearly enough to make him feel refreshed when he wakes.

It’s early Sunday morning by the time the train pulls into the city closest to Wade’s home. Because of the time, he doesn’t believe he’ll find a ride closer to the village, so he resigns himself to walking home instead. He’s done this plenty of times before, but the thought of Peter worrying over him makes him pray that a good samaritan will offer him a ride en route. Unfortunately, not a single car passes Wade by the time he manages to hike through all of the hills surrounding his town. As he trudges down the dirt road leading to his home, he decides it might be best that Peter sees him as soon as possible, which means slipping into Sunday’s service late and in his travel clothes.

_I can just give him a grin and then slip out so he knows that everything is alright. That should work, right? I mean, everything is fine, so why am I worried? Why is-_

Wade jogs up to the entrance of the little path that leads to his cabin. He pokes a fallen branch with his foot, relieved to see that it is only plant debris and not something worthy of panic. But as he resumes walking he spots a bird’s nest, the same one he placed in the tree himself after the storm last year. Kneeling down to examine it, he realizes that this time it doesn’t look as though it fell. It looks as if it has been smashed in, perhaps even stepped on. Wade glances around to see what might have caused this kind of damage, and then he spots something sticking out of the bushes.

_Wait a minute… is that… is that my porch chair?_

He stands hesitantly and heads for the chair, his nerves on edge as if he’s at the critical point of a mission. He yanks on the top of the wooden chair in order to free it, but only the back starts to come loose from the seat. Seeing the jagged edges of one of the panels, Wade realizes that someone broke this chair and threw it into the shrubbery. He slowly turns and takes a few steps towards his cabin, trying to determine what kind of village teen thought it would be funny to trash his porch furniture and drag damaged bits into the road, but the broken window and open front door say this is most likely not the work of a teenager on some kind of dare.

Wade drops his bags and fishes out his hunting knife along with a small handgun, holding the latter in front of him after checking the ammunition. Slowly walking up the walkway that leads to the cabin, Wade glances around for any other suspicious signs, worried this damage is recent enough for the perpetrators to still be present. He takes his time surveying the cabin before entering. It’s hard not to get taken in by the condition in which he finds his home because each room he checks has increasingly more damaged property. After confirming that no one else is there, Wade lowers his gun and sighs heavily as he kicks a broken plate on the floor; it’s one of the ones Father Parker gifted him.

This cabin has been exposed to numerous types of vandalism over the years, but never to this scale. Wade struggles with his emotions; his anger, paranoia, and hopelessness are all fighting to take precedence, to sway his next series of actions. Wade wanders his home, reassessing the damage. Occasionally, he stops to place an item back where it belongs; other times he just stares at it, feeling either too depressed or resentful to even touch it.

He finds a smashed photo frame in the living room. When he picks it up and tries to wipe dust off the shattered glass, he ends up cutting his fingertips, leaving a small smear of blood on the edge of the frame. He resorts to blowing on the picture, hoping that will get rid of the rest of the dirt so he can see Al clearly.

_I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this happened, but I’ll fix it, I promise. Please don’t blame me._

Wade carefully rights the coffee table so he can set the frame down on it. He tries to clean up the rest of the living room, but after spotting most of his books singed in the fireplace, he decides he needs to take a break.

Making his way back to the bedroom, he aims to rearrange his bed so he has a place to sit. As he steps toward the bed, he feels something roll under his foot, causing him to stumble. He plops down hard on the edge of his mattress and leans over to figure out what nearly tripped him. He stares at the beads on the floor, his heart dropping in his chest. Quickly tossing aside the blanket and pillows covering them, Wade finds more beads and eventually the crucifix that were all once a part of the rosary Peter received during his time at the Vatican. Slowly, he picks up all the pieces he can reach while seated, trying to understand what happened while he was gone.

_Who in the hell did this? This could not have been the local teens. It’s far too excessive. But who else could have done this? And why? I mean… things have been going well for so long; this town has been-_

Wade’s motions stall, a bead slipping from his fingertips as he sits upright. He suddenly realizes that there is at least one individual that he has never gotten along with, one that might allow such an incident to befall Wade and find holy reasoning for it.

_But that still doesn’t explain how this happened. I mean, ridicule and shunning are one thing, but this is completely different. Duguay has gone too far. Father Peter would never allow-_

_PETER!_

The rest of the beads fall through Wade’s fingers as he races out of the room. He checks the clock in the kitchen. The glass is smashed but-

_If the time’s right, he’s in the middle of a service right now._

Wade sprints down the dirt road, nearly falling over the steepest part. He tries to focus on his footsteps and his breathing, distracting himself from all the worst-case scenarios playing out in his mind. He prays that Peter is safe, completely unharmed, and oblivious to the recent crime that occured at his cabin just outside of the town limits.

_It must have happened yesterday, that’s why he doesn’t know about it. That’s got to be it. He’s fine. He’s got to be fine!_

Tripping up the stairs, Wade hisses as his foot catches on the second step, but he doesn’t stop moving. He stumbles awkwardly up the rest of the stairs before running at the church’s front doors. He throws them open, causing them to slam against the opposite wall, but pays it no mind. Racing inside the sanctuary, Wade does not stop until he’s a third of the way up the center aisle, leaning over to grasp the pew on his right for support as he catches his breath.

Wade freezes. His eyes fix on the right side of the altar where the pulpit stands, and he feels a sudden urge to vomit, to scream, to attack. He sees movement from the left side of the altar where the rest of the clergy sits, and he stands upright, jerking his head in that direction. He’s tempted to call out Deacon Duguay for rushing towards the back offices but gets cut off.

“Who are you!?” comes a harsh, booming voice, prompting Wade to look back to the pulpit. “Just what do you think you’re doing, barging in here and-”

“I COULD ASK THE SAME OF YOU, CARDINAL MARC!”

When Wade is met with silence, he takes a step towards the altar, his eyes skimming the front of the church, hoping for a sign of Peter. His pace quickens, but before he can make it to the front, Cardinal Marc finally responds.

“I am exactly where I’m supposed to be. You, however-”

“WHERE IS FATHER PETER!? WHY ARE YOU HERE!?”

The cardinal scoffs. “He’s where he should be! As am I!”

“What-”

“He’s been… removed from his post. I was sent here because, apparently, your former priest couldn’t follow a righteous path.”

“F-former?” Wade could barely hear himself breath out the word.

Cardinal Marc steps out from behind the pulpit, walking closer to the center of the altar. “From what I understand, it wasn’t just _Monsieur_ Parker. It was you as well, both lawless and impure. We should be rid of you as—”

Wade marches towards the altar as he says, “‘Everyone who has hope in Him purifies himself, just as He is pure. However, anyone who commits sin breaks the law; in fact, sin _is_ lawlessness!’ Father Peter has hope, and he is the closest thing to pure in this blasted church. And you… Whatever you did to Peter _is_ sin! Therefore, in itself lawless!” He stops at the first row of pews, breathing hard and struggling to keep the argument as civil as possible.

“I absolutely hate vermin who—”

“ _Hate_ _vermin_? How dare— ‘Let us love one another, for love is of God.’” When Cardinal Marc sneers at Wade, opening his mouth to retort, Wade presses on. “‘This love of God was manifested toward us, that we might live through Him… His Son to _be_ the propitiation for our sins, so we ought to love one another.’ You, _sir_ , seem incapable of even understanding what—”

“I’m plenty capable of seeing that your lack of salvation combined with _Monsieur_ Parker’s is a direct path towards—”

Wade can’t stand hearing Peter’s name said in that manner a second time. He races towards the stairs alongside the altar. When Cardinal Marc darts behind the pulpit, the rest of the clergy stand. Wade stills momentarily, not wanting to engage in a physical altercation on holy ground.

“Lord, give me strength,” he mumbles between steadying breaths.

But his nerves are immediately tested again when Cardinal Marc scoffs. “ _Lord_? What use does someone such as you have praying to—”

“‘WE ARE OF GOD! He who knows God hears us; he who is _not_ of God does _not_ hear us. By this we know the spirit of truth and the spirit of error.’ Now tell me the truth. Where is—”

Deacon Lasalle takes a tentative step forward. “Mr. Wilson, I believe that—”

“SILENCE!” Cardinal Marc’s shout causes Lasalle to fall back into his seat. “Judgment was brought down upon that heathen, as it will be for this abomination before us. Say no more lest—”

“‘For there are three that bear witness in heaven: the Father, the Word, and the Holy Spirit.’ And as far as I can tell, you’re not God, you’re not the Word, and I’m pretty sure you’re not the Holy Spirit, though you look as if you’re a few days away from becoming one yourself.”

Wade’s eyes dart back to Deacon Lasalle when he hears him cough awkwardly, spotting him trying to hide his smirk behind his fist. Normally, Lasalle’s amusement at Wade’s jokes pleased him, but not today.

As Wade glares at him, Lasalle’s hand moves to cover his mouth and his eyes widen. Confused by his expression, Wade peeks over his left shoulder but is only greeted with the uncomfortable faces of the congregation. When he looks back to the altar, his eyes stop on Lasalle again, unsure of what the deacon is gawking at. He can hear Cardinal Marc’s rant in the background, picking up key words such as ‘heathen’ and ‘purging,’ but he doesn’t bother listening or even facing the pulpit. His concern is now with Lasalle, who stands and points purposefully at Wade, causing a new fear to rise in his chest.

“Have you been quoting scripture this whole time?”

Wade breathes a sigh of relief, but Cardinal Marc scolds the deacon for interrupting again. It’s all the reason Wade needs to shout over him. “YES! About time you men of the cloth picked up on that.” Wade looks towards the Cardinal and catches his shocked expression. He smirks and says, “I was studying the 1st Epistle of John recently, so—”

“I cannot believe a heathen would—”

“HEATHEN!?” Wade starts pacing in front of the altar, prompting two men in the first pew to stand up in a defensive position, but he pays them no mind. “Heathen, heathen, _heathen_! Is that the _only_ word you know? Or is it just your default for people who don’t bend to your man-made laws disguised as scripture?”

“HOW DARE—”

Wade stops pacing, spinning towards the pulpit. “I’m here seeking answers and defending the best damn priest I’ve ever met using the Word itself while you’re constantly retorting with childish insults and proving to the whole church that you’ve been trying to _play_ God.”

Wade looks away from the cardinal’s reddened face when he sees movement on the side. He unclenches his fists as he watches Deacon Lasalle shake his head slowly. He can barely hear him say, “Leave, please,” as Cardinal Marc begins shouting at Wade to do the same.

It is Lasalle’s pleading face, the earnest expression he always gives Wade when he starts butting heads with Deacon Duguay, that grounds Wade enough to reassess his surroundings. He sees the two men in the first few pews slowly approach him, hands held cautiously in front of themselves.

_I must either leave of my own accord or with the help of others, potentially in the form of violence in this sanctuary._

Wade has a quick thought to pray for forgiveness in advance before going in fist-first, but he suddenly hears Father Parker’s voice in his head.

_“I do wish you didn’t have to resort to violence.”_

“This isn’t over!” Although Wade says it to Cardinal Marc, he means it more as a promise to himself. He storms out of the church, pushing roughly at one of the men trying to grab his arm and escort him.

Once Wade reaches the front doors of the church, he sprints over to the rectory, banging his fists against the door. He shouts for Father Parker but receives no reply. He continues to knock and beg Peter to stop hiding, to come out and let Wade protect him, but Peter never does. Wade punches angrily at the door, curses out loud, and stomps down the steps.

_He can’t be gone. He just can’t._

Wade thinks about barging back into the church but quickly suppresses the thought, knowing it will only be harder for him this time to not attack Cardinal Marc first before asking questions. Aggravated, he paces the community garden and considers waiting around for the end of service but realizes that it might end up turning into his own manhunt. It’s then that Wade finally remembers something.

_That snake, Duguay._

Wade races out of the garden, trampling a few plants along the way, rushing towards the deacon’s home on the other side of town. Once there, he starts pounding his fists against the door as he screams at Duguay to show his face, but like the priory, there is no response. Wade kicks the door several times, his foot inching closer towards the lock each time in an attempt to kick it in as he watches the door shake in its frame. After what feels like hours terrorizing Duguay’s home, Wade gives up, rubbing his sore hands together as he heads dejectedly back into the main part of town, taking a different route in hopes of spotting the deacon.

In the past, Wade has wandered through the village during church service and noticed how it’s usually quieter than any other day, though there’s still some activity from the few businesses that remain open. However, today’s complete lack of activity forces Wade to slow down, eventually stopping in the middle of the town square as he strains to remember if he has seen anyone since leaving the church. He takes a lap around the fountain as he carefully peers down each road and alley within sight, only hearing his own breath and footsteps over the sound of trickling water. He wonders if Cardinal Marc’s visit typically causes the town to shut down like this.

_But does this mean they know, they all know? About Peter? And do they… they approve of it? No one else said a word, and there’s no one else here._

Wade swallows thickly, afraid of all the implications. He’s worried this has become a new level of shunning, but he’s more concerned about Father Parker’s whereabouts and safety.

Slowly making the trek back to his cabin, Wade feels a terrible ache in his chest as the adrenaline starts to wear off. He barely makes it onto the path off the dirt road when he chokes back a sob. Tears stream down his face as he climbs the steps. By the time he crosses the threshold, all the running and stress finally catches up to Wade, causing him to stumble to his knees on the floor just steps away from his front door.

_This is all my fault. I was so dismissive. I should have been honest with him. I should have taken him with- no, no I couldn’t, but I could have hidden him maybe? Come back to get him after my mission. I should have forced him to go ahead and ask for that vacation, to go by himself and meet him later._

Wade buries his face in his hands as he tries to get himself to stop thinking about what he should have done and instead focus on what he can do now. After another strangled sob escapes him, he stands slowly and starts rummaging through his cabin, hoping for a clue or some sort of epiphany.

He spends nearly three hours slowly putting items back into place or tossing them into a pile in the middle of the room if they are too damaged. He eventually heads back to the bedroom and spots a few of the rosary beads still on the ground. He picks them up one by one, placing them into his pocket. Upon moving the rest of his bedding back onto his mattress, Wade finds the largest fragment of the rosary left: a small piece of string with only seven beads on it. After realizing there’s not enough to fashion the rosary back together, he ties the string around his wrist.

_I suppose seven will have to do for now._

Taking the other beads out of his pocket, he throws them furiously at the opposite wall, listening to them clatter and roll. He runs a thumb against one of the beads on his wrist and prays for calmness before continuing to right his home. Seeing the beads scattered all throughout his bedroom only reignites the anger inside him, so Wade marches back into the living room to resume any tasks there.

It takes over an hour before Wade feels the rage subside, allowing him to think of ways he can find Peter’s whereabouts as he continues to clean. He places a few items up on the mantle before accidently dropping one, causing it to fall and slide into the fireplace. When Wade bends down to pick it up, he notices the burned books and suddenly remembers how angry he felt the first time he saw them. This time, Wade is saddened.

He extracts four of the books, coughing against the cloud of ash that rises into his face. The fifth book he removes is the most intact, having fallen behind the pile at some point before it was ignited. When Wade wipes the remaining ash off the cover, he feels hollow inside.

_Of all the German books that they could have burned, they had to pick my copy of the New Testament._

Wade places it back onto the shelf where it belongs, staring at how awfully it stands out, covered in soot and half a meter away from the few books that had remained on the shelf.

He chuckles through the sadness, an uncomfortable laugh.

_What’s the point of picking up the pieces? It won’t ever be whole again, especially if I don’t find out about Peter._

Still staring at the book, Wade debates going back to the church for answers until he ultimately decides to wait for morning in the hopes that he can formulate a plan by then.

He then heads into the kitchen to wash his hands and pour himself a drink. Sitting on the only upright kitchen chair, he mulls over the few facts he knows so far. Wade soon starts dissociating, zoning out as all the different emotions he’s experienced today hit him in waves. After the third failed attempt to take a sip from an empty glass, he realizes he’s been wasting time, unsure of how long it’s been since he sat down. He slams the glass down on the counter behind him before padding back towards the living room.

Wade returns to the fireplace and continues to pull out the charred remains of books. He fumbles one, causing what is left of the back cover to fall off and slip between the grates. When he pulls the fragment out, he sees something shift with it by the leg of the grate. Wade blows on the unknown object, fanning against the cloud of soot rising up. Once he sees it, he feels a sudden dread overcome him. He flings the grate to the back of the fireplace, causing the last of the book remains to scatter. Hastily, Wade grabs the item on the bottom of the fireplace and turns his back against the giant ash cloud he produced.

Dizzy and fearing that he might faint, Wade runs the soot-covered string of beads through his fingertips until he’s holding the hand-carved crucifix of the rosary.

He uses some spit and the bottom of his shirt to clean it up. He recognizes his own handiwork, but what he is looking for is his initials, a sign that it belongs to him. Wade flips over the cross and scrubs, dropping the rosary when he sees ‘P.P.’ instead.

_It’s his. It’s the one I gave him. Was he- was he here!? Was he still here when they-_

Wade rushes towards the door and collapses against the frame, the dizziness catching up to him again.

_I can’t… I can’t go barging back to the rectory, especially if Cardinal Marc and whatever other diocese may be there. At least, not blindly like this._

Wade paces in his living room, at one point screaming aloud, as he struggles to rationalize the situation as opposed to going with his gut instincts to treat Cardinal Marc like a mission target. He can still see the cardinal’s sneering face in his head and hears all his ungrounded comments, provoking him to run to his weapons closet. He yanks the door open and stares at his favorite gun before slamming the door shut and shouting, “FUCK!”

_I can’t. I can’t go in there guns-ablazing. That will only worsen the situation._

Wade huffs out in frustration as he resumes pacing again. Once he makes up his mind, he tucks the wooden rosary into his pocket and rushes out the door, a bit surprised to see that the sun is already setting. He takes his time heading back to the rectory, allowing the sun to disappear completely and grant him the coverage of darkness.

Staring at the rectory from the edge of the property line, Wade waits for a sign that Cardinal Marc is inside. He struggles with how he should approach this situation, knowing that the town is once again against him and that he doesn’t want to have a physical altercation with an elderly man on church grounds.

 _But is the priory still considered holy if_ he _is in there!?_

Mind made up, Wade shakes his head and crosses the lawn. He shouts for Cardinal Marc to come out as he marches up the steps. For the third time today, he’s greeted with silence after knocking incessantly on a door. Feeling exhausted from a maelstrom of emotions, Wade goes home to allow his body some rest before hunting down the cardinal and Duguay in the morning.


	45. Oct 6-8, 1958

There is a faint glow peeking through the mountains when Wade leaves his cabin the next morning. He hoists his knapsack onto his shoulders and toys with the end of the hunting knife sticking through his belt before ensuring that his jacket is covering it. He makes his way down to the end of the path and stops just short of the dirt road. Kneeling down, Wade prays for peace, for answers, and, most of all, for Peter’s safety. He takes a few more minutes to steady his nerves before standing up and watching the sun rise until he can’t stand to look at it anymore.

_Well, guess it’s time to get to work._

Repeating the prayer in his head over and over, Wade takes sure steps down the dirt road into the town, which is still unusually quiet. As he approaches the rectory, Wade tries knocking again and takes a few deep breaths in case he’s greeted with Cardinal Marc’s nastier side. He doesn’t hear a sound and can only see the drawn curtains when he tries to look in through the windows. Wade sneaks around the rectory and checks every window he can find, but all are locked and the view obscured by furniture or curtains.

_Where can Peter be? Who knows—_

Wade hears voices in front of the church and peeks around the corner, spotting Cardinal Marc and two other men walking towards a car that just pulled up. Before Wade decides to go over and confront them, it’s already speeding away. He still attempts to chase after it anyway, but barely steps off the church grounds. Once it turns onto the main road that leads to the northwest exit of town, Wade heads back towards the church.

He tries the front doors, but they are locked.

_Strange. Shouldn’t these be open at this hour for the community, in case of confession or prayer?_

Wade slowly makes his way around the building, keeping an eye out for either Duguay, Lasalle, or Peter, and eventually reaches the back door. He uses his own key to sneak into the church, finding it odd that all the lights are out. Carefully, he wanders around inside, not wanting to turn on any lights since he is still unsure of why the church is currently shut down to this degree.

He checks every room he has access to on his way to Father Parker’s office only to find that he’s been locked out.

“I’ll need to ask Peter how many Hail Marys this will take when I find him,” Wade murmurs to himself before slamming his shoulder into the door. He tries two more times before the flimsy wood finally gives way, splitting next to the lock so he can push the remainder of the door open.

Believing his eyes are deceiving him, Wade turns on the lights, but that only illuminates the emptiness of the room. He knows that not everything in this office belongs to Father Parker; some items belong to the church and must stay here regardless of which priest is assigned to this location. Yet, there is nothing left but furniture. Wade checks the drawers, the cabinets, every nook and cranny he can find, but he doesn’t come across a slip of paper, a broken pencil, or any other possible debris left behind.

_Did they want to be rid of Father Parker so badly that they cleared the entire room? Is this—_

Wade doesn’t hesitate to race out of the church, running back to the rectory. He doesn’t feel right breaking and entering, not when he still wants to view this place as Peter’s home. Eventually, he finds one window with a gap wide enough for his knife to fit through, allowing him to flip the lock. Once he gracelessly shimmies inside and falls hard on the floor, Wade feels sick to his stomach. Peter’s bedroom is completely empty aside from a bed, a chair, and a wardrobe. He races through the clergy house and sees that it is deserted. There are still a few items laying about in the kitchen, so it wasn’t purged like the church office, but the emptiness of it still breaks Wade’s heart.

Wade leaves out the front door, not worried about the lock since there is nothing but linen and kitchenware to steal.

He slowly makes his trek back home, wondering how to find a deacon when he hears voices. Creeping closer to his cabin’s pathway, Wade realizes there are a few church committee members on his porch. He tries as quietly as possible to slip into the bushes to watch them, debating whether or not to confront them.

“I’m telling you, I tried contacting the gendarmerie nationale yesterday after service, but they laughed in my face, saying I should be glad there was an outburst in church to break up the monotony of—”

“Did you stress to them _why_ the situation is distressing and dangerous for the whole town?” The man asking continues peering through one of Wade’s windows.

“Of course! But they asked what proof I had and—”

“What kind of proof do they need!?” asks a third man who is poking at items on the porch with his toe.

“I don’t know. Let’s just get out of here. Even with the four of us here, I doubt we can take him. He’s a monster.”

Two of the men chuckle in response while Wade fights against the urge to test that theory. He watches them walk down the path, passing but not seeing him.

“Perhaps we can contact the nearest sûreté instead?”

“Pft! No way! They are nothing but a high-and-mighty civilian task force.”

Wade rolls his eyes. _Oh, like you all?_

“Besides, they only work in the cities; we’re too rural for them, and I'd much rather put my faith in the gendarme since they are actually armed forces and not some self-righteous…” Wade can’t make out the words after that but still waits a few moments before emerging from his hiding place.

Cautiously, he takes a few steps toward his cabin, constantly looking back to the dirt road just in case.

_If there are groups of men coming to find me at home, I can’t stay here any longer._

Wade rushes inside and packs two bags as is his custom for going on a long mission. As he fills a small rucksack with as much food as he can find, Wade thinks about his weapons. He has already packed two guns and all the ammunition he owns but realizes that leaving behind his other guns is the same as handing over evidence to the enemy. Wade rushes to the small closet and removes all the firearms, wrapping them hastily in the blanket on his bed. He uses a rope to tie the blanket closed before laying it down next to the rest of his packed belongings. Sighing heavily, he looks back and forth between the pile on the floor and the rucksack he left on the kitchen counter.

_This is definitely going to take two trips. Might as well make them two full trips._

Wade curses under his breath as he finishes packing up all his food. He uses his pillowcase to stow away a few extra items that he picks up during his last run through the house. As he pulls Al’s photo out of the broken frame and tucks it into Uncle Ben’s Bible, Wade glances back at his pantry. He goes over and takes out two bottles of wine, glass clinking as he attempts to place them in another pillowcase.

Wade hides half of his makeshift luggage in the woods and takes the other half with him as he walks the trail surrounding the town on his way to their field of flowers. He doesn’t use the stone path that cuts through part of it and instead keeps to the perimeter, heading towards the remains of his old cabin. He coughs against the plume of dust that welcomes him when he forces the door open. After a quick check for any sign of danger or animals, Wade stashes his belongings in an empty room and heads back to Al’s cabin. By the time he’s successfully settled into his decrepit, old cabin, it is already mid-afternoon.

Wade decides to stay in place for now. The sun closes in on the mountains on the opposite side of the town as he helps himself to a dinner of bread and fruit, barely managing a few bites of each before he uncorks a bottle of wine. From the outside, he appears calm for the first time since returning home, but Wade’s mind is working overtime, planning out every possible detail, every ‘what if’ scenario. He ends up falling asleep feeling warm from the wine while mulling over what he now thinks is his most challenging mission yet.

The next morning, Wade decides to head straight to what he has determined as the most likely source of this disaster. He tries not to run to Deacon Duguay’s in order to conserve his energy, but he can’t seem to help how quickly he’s walking, breaking into a jog once the house is in sight.

The building is in the same condition as the rectory, with all the curtains drawn and no one home to answer as far as Wade can tell. As he continues to slam his hand against the door, hoping that Duguay may be trying to wait Wade out, a neighbor comes out and starts complaining about the racket.

“Have you seen him!?” Wade clears his throat and gives the neighbor a sheepish look when he realizes how loud his voice just was. “Have you seen Monsieur Duguay or—”

The man furrows his brow as he shakes his head slowly. “No, but that doesn’t give you the right to go about—”

“Do you know where else he might be?”

“The _church_ perhaps? I don’t know! I’m not his keeper! Just keep it down out here!”

Wade’s next question is cut off by the man returning to his home and slamming the door shut.

_Where did that bastard go!?_

Frustrated, Wade heads to the church but finds it locked up still.

_Deacon Lasalle should at least be here if that coward Duguay isn’t. I wonder if he left town altogether when he scurried off during service._

To stop his growling stomach, Wade pulls a carrot from the community garden and rinses it down with a nearby hose. He chews it mindlessly as he paces in front of the rectory, going down his mental list of who to confront next. He decides to check the homes of two of the church committee leaders. Once again, no response, although he does think he sees someone peeking out from behind the curtains. He goes up to another house but chooses to walk away before knocking, certain he’ll be met with silence here, too. As he wanders through town, sticking to back alleys as much as possible, Wade realizes that he is only seeing the individuals who don’t attend church regularly.

_I can understand the clergy may be tending to recent events, well, Lasalle at least. Duguay is probably just hiding and thinking of more ways to skirt his responsibilities. But the rest of the town? What happened while I was away? Why is everyone hiding?_

Wade decides to establish a stake out by the old shed behind the school, watching the town while he plans his next move. When he hears children coming out to play behind the school building, he leaves. Electing to check out more public buildings in the meantime, Wade finds the bookstore and barber shop both closed. He slips into an alley out of instinct when he hears a few rowdy voices.

_They are coming from the café. I wonder who…_

Wade looks around before peering out of the alley, but then freezes when he realizes—

_This is the same place where Peter… we had that fight. If I can hear them, then could they have heard him? Heard all the things—_

Wade holds his breath as he strains to listen, hoping that Father Parker wasn’t as loud as these men now. He can hear them, but he cannot make out the words.

Inching his way out of the alley, Wade slowly approaches the café. He can see the bookstore owner, the barber, the owner of the bar, and a few other men sitting about.

Wade tucks himself into the doorway of the building next to the café when he sees the men start to stand.

“Are you sure he was just exiled? I mean, considering the state he was in, I’m not sure he could have survived—”

“Why are we still talking about this!?” Wade peers out as the barber groans in response, spotting him leaving some cash on the patio table. “That’s all I’ve been hearing the last few days. Can’t we just… and of course Monsieur Fabron…”

Wade struggles to hear the rest of the conversation as the men walk off. He contemplates going after the barber, to ask him to explain what happened, but doesn’t feel that confronting someone within such a large group is a viable option right now. Instead, Wade heads back to his boarded-up old cabin by the flower field to figure out where to go from here.

Once there, he realizes his body is sore and his stomach is empty, so he sits for a spell while picking at some dried bread. However, this only makes him feel as though he is wasting time. It takes a while to convince himself that he can’t succeed unless he’s more strategic about his next steps. As he tries to plan out how to approach certain individuals, Wade’s thoughts stray towards what he overheard at the café.

_Exile, I can understand. Exile, I can handle. I would just need to find the right person to get his whereabouts and then go to him. Then it really would be like one of my typical missions. But what do they mean the state he was in and not being sure if he survived? They couldn’t have—_

_No! NO! Peine forte et dure is not likely because it hasn’t been done in… what? Centuries? It’s not part of the canon law of the Catholic Church anymore. They can’t—_

Wade has to lie down as the next thought creeps in.

_This town, especially the clergy, is very closeminded, old-fashioned, and bigoted. If anyone would bring back peine forte et dure, flagellation, or stoning as common practices, it would be these fools. Maybe even the entire diocese if Cardinal Marc is a part of it. The only reason he wouldn’t self-flagellate is if he truly believes himself to be without sin, which at this point, I wouldn’t put past him._

_However, Pope Pius XII did state a few years back that the church was not against capital punishment… but that if the civil government deemed it so… but these men…_

Wade rubs a hand roughly across his face and groans loudly.

_They most likely believe that they can take matters into their own hands._

_But not… not Lasalle…_

Standing up immediately, Wade realizes he might actually get a straight answer if he can manage to talk to Lasalle alone. He grabs a bag and rushes towards the deacon’s home, stumbling to a stop when he remembers Lasalle’s two small children.

_If this should turn sour, I don’t want them to—_

Wade decides to take a chance and check the church, hoping Lasalle is the only one there. He feels that he can cry for joy when he reaches the church grounds and sees the deacon wandering the community garden.

Wade rushes over, waving frantically as he asks, “Please, Deacon Lasalle, may I have a word?”

Lasalle looks at him, shock clear on his face, before dropping his basket of vegetables. When Wade realizes Lasalle is trying to make a run for it, he abandons the bag and charges at him, struggling to grab a hold of him. He drags him up the steps to the priory, pushing open the door and kicking it shut behind them as soon as he shoves the deacon towards the couch.

“I know it may not look like it, but I honestly just want answers and will leave you be otherwise.”

Deacon Lasalle looks terrified as he stares at Wade. He considers going up to Lasalle and pleading, but fears approaching after manhandling him may scare him off and silence him for good. So instead, Wade takes a few steps back until he bumps into the door leading to the kitchen. He slowly raises his hands in surrender as he says, “I promise you I only want the truth. You know me, I would never harm you.”

Lasalle shakes his head before gasping inwardly. “I’m sorry. I can’t—”

“Please, just tell me what happened to Father Parker. That’s all—”

“I CAN’T! I’ll get in trouble if they even see me talking to you. I’m not supposed to say a word.” The last syllable is broken by a ragged sob.

Wade waits a beat before he deals the final blow. “I understand the clergy and maybe even their laws have bound your lips, but in the years to come, can you honestly look into Victor Jr.’s eyes and say you did the right thing here today by keeping silent?”

“Damn you, Mr. Wilson!” Both men seem shocked by the outburst until Lasalle looks back at him, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “How can you—”

“Please, I just want to know what happened to Father—”

“And so do I!”

Wade startles. “What?”

Deacon Lasalle looks down at his hands folded in his lap. “I don’t know what happened either. I… I wasn’t a part of it, I swear. I know he was in trouble, and I know the reasons why.” Wade doesn’t like the way Lasalle peeks back over at him at the last statement. “But when I was confronted about the situation, asked for my opinion, I opted for excommunication. I knew it was a heavy price to pay, but with excommunication he could still remain in town if he desired, but… I don’t know, Mr. Wilson. They thanked me for my time, it felt so strange, but I didn’t dare question them. Then they bid me to go run some supplies to the orphanage and by the time I returned…”

It feels as if eons pass while Wade waits for Lasalle to calm down enough to finish. Eventually, he can’t bear the silence anymore and takes a few tentative steps towards the deacon. “What happened when you returned?”

Tears trail down the deacon’s cheek as he looks back up at Wade. “It was chaos. There was something happening at the rectory, so much shouting, but I dared not go near, not after I saw my youngest one crying on the outskirts of the crowd. After picking him up and finding my wife, my only thoughts were to get my family home safely, away from whatever was happening at the church.”

“And Duguay or the Cardinal didn’t tell you…” Wade trails off as Lasalle shakes his head, wiping roughly at the tears.

“Deacon Duguay mentioned something about exile and Peter having no living family, but I heard other things… only rumors, so I don’t know for certain…”

“What?”

“Mr. Wilson, you should leave!”

Wade takes a step back at the words, not expecting such a response and certainly not one said so firmly.

“The church is blaming you; they were trying to hunt you down. I heard… your cabin… I was too scared to go see it myself, but with the way you entered the church the other day, I believe at least that rumor to be true.”

“Oh, that some people took it upon themselves to turn my home into a giant ‘Not Welcomed Here’ sign?”

“As much as it pains me to say it, that’s exactly what it was. From my understanding, Father Parker tried to stop them, but then it went all downhill… I—” Lasalle bites his knuckle in an attempt to stifle a sob. “Cardinal Marc gave me zero explanation when he… he made me wash blood off the rectory steps.”

Wade falls back against the kitchen door, struggling to stay upright as his gaze follows Lasalle’s weak gesture towards the front of the clergy house.

“Blood? Peter’s blood? But what—”

“I DON’T KNOW! I promise you, I honestly don’t know anything else. Just that he had fallen out of grace and then something terrible happened here. I didn’t even get to see him.”

Wade stares at the deacon, hoping for some sign to indicate that he is being overly dramatic or, better yet, lying, but Wade knows the face of genuine fear and horror when he sees it.

Deacon Lasalle suddenly stands, sniffing hard as he tries to stop the last of his tears. “I’m serious, Wade, you need to leave. It’s for your own good and…” He sighs heavily before giving Wade that same pleading face from earlier. “And you need to find Father Parker. I don’t know where he is or how he’s fairing, and my few potential contacts have only met me with silence. I’m scared for him. So, please—”

“I’ll find him. And don’t worry, as soon as I get the information I need, I’ll leave immediately to go get him.”

Wade slips out of the rectory and pays close attention to the steps but sees no signs of spilled blood. He kneels in the garden next to the bag he threw down previously, attempting to catch his breath as he convinces himself that Peter is perfectly fine.

_Whatever happened, he put up a good fight and he’s alive. There’s even a good chance that it’s not his blood, probably not even blood! Just something else that spilled in an unrelated incident._

Wade comes up with plenty of other scenarios but cannot get himself to fully believe a single one. He pulls out his travel cloak and makes his way back into town, ready to question anyone who might have been there that night at the priory.

He crosses paths with two individuals who either honestly know less than Lasalle or are too afraid of Wade to say much more. As the sun starts to set, Wade finds himself in an alley between the bar and the mercantile, looking for a way to sneak inside. He jogs to catch the back door to the bar before it closes all the way after the waitstaff sets a bag in the alley. He slips inside and is careful to avoid a server putting away flatware. Tightening the cloak around his body, Wade tries to ensure that no scarred skin is peeking through as he tucks himself into a dark corner to observe the patrons for his next interrogation.

A few tables away, some drunks start getting rowdy. He tries to keep his eyes on a congregation member nearby, but with each outburst, his focus gets drawn back to the loud table. His original target and another group soon clear out, looking disgusted by the loud patrons. Wade wonders why the bartender doesn’t intervene but soon realizes that he’s one of them, sitting with his back facing Wade.

Wade moves closer, snagging a seat at an empty table within earshot to better hear their conversation. The men keep talking over each other, clearly debating something hotly, so Wade cannot make out much. Finally, Mr. Périgord slams his hands on the table, silencing the other men. “’m telling ya! It whas D-Duguay! ‘es the biggez fool here!”

Wade feels repulsed at how much the bookseller slurs over his words.

_All those times he deemed me too unfit and uncultured for his shoddy bookstore, and here he is, probably the most sloppily drunk of the bunch._

“’es a coward and a lie- a liar. ’e claims there whas a sudden… sudden illness… family illn’s, out o‘ town… but WE ALL S-SAW HIM RUN OU‘ THE CHURCH WHEN ZE BOCHE S-SHOWED UP!”

The uproar of laughter isn’t enough to cut into Wade’s thought.

_Boche? BOCHE!? Does he really think I’m some sort of German soldier, after all this—_

Wade looks over towards the table when the laughter suddenly turns to shouting. He sees Mr. Périgord pull himself off another man, clearly fallen over in his drunken state, before hobbling towards the door. He keeps telling the rest of the table to hush, that he’ll be right back.

Realizing the present opportunity, Wade tugs on the hood of his cloak and circles around the far side of the bar, trailing after the bookseller. He catches up to him just around the corner of the building, entering a narrow alleyway. Wade grabs the man by the arm and spins him around to face him.

“What do you know!?”

“What the—You!”

Grabbing Mr. Périgord by the lapels, Wade shakes him as he asks, “Where is Father Parker!?”

“Like I would tell you!” the bookseller spat out. “Get yo‘ ’ands off me, boche.”

“Why do you keep saying—”

“Gedoff me!” Mr. Périgord struggles against Wade but cannot make him budge.

“Why ‘boche’ and not—”

“B’cause you’re a nazi, you idiot.” Wade feels rooted to the spot as the drunkard continues. “Your accent ’as always been off. You know-you know too much… German… always s-sneaking ’round my s-shop! Reading those blasted German… those books. Figured we treat ya like-like-like the Germans—the Nazis treated the rest o‘ us.”

Wade takes a half turn and throws Mr. Périgord against the wall. “DID YOU REALLY THINK I WAS A NAZI!? THAT I WAS ONE OF THEM!?”

“O‘course you were, you—”

“Look at me!” Wade pulls the man back towards himself just to slam him against the wall again. When Mr. Périgord’s eyes screw shut reflexively, Wade bellows, “LOOK AT ME!” Wade shakes Mr. Périgord until he cracks an eye open, cursing under his breath all the while. “Do you not see what I am!? I’m more a victim of the war than you can even imagine! These scars are from the Nazis. I was orphaned because of the Nazis. I lost everything at such a young age because of them! So, I, _a Belgian_ , am part of the ‘us’ you mentioned, not a German and certainly not a Nazi!”

“Then why th’hell do ya—”

Wade releases his grip on the bookseller’s shirt as he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his tone. “What kind of world do you think you’re making here? How will such bigotry solve anything? How can you call yourself a believer in God when you’re only gossiping and adding hate to the world?”

Mr. Périgord spits on the ground next to Wade’s feet. “Why you little—I w’sh they ’ad ended you like zey did that priesht… Gende‘! Gen—GENDARME!”

Wade knows there are no police around, but he can’t take any chances. He swings his fist up, punching Mr. Périgord hard enough to knock him against the wall once more before he slumps down to the ground. Wade hovers over him as he shakes out his hand.

“Damn idiot. Not only are you prejudiced and self-righteous, you’re also a bad businessman. I could have carried your store if you would have just accepted my money. Tsk!”

_There’s nothing left for me here; I doubt I’ll find any more information. And the more time I spend here, the less time I’ll have to find Peter._

Wade’s brain tries to supply an added ‘if’ statement regarding Father’s Parker safety and life, but he groans loudly, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, anything to suppress another terrible thought or image attempting to creep in.

With a resigned sign, Wade stalks off to his run-down cabin to collect his belongings. After separating out what he wants to take and what he will keep hidden under the floorboards, he makes his way back through town, having two stops left before he starts his blind search for Peter.

First, Wade visits Duguay’s house one last time, but still receives no reply when he knocks. He knows what he wants to do, to treat Duguay’s home much like his cabin was treated, but a part of him knows that God will judge him and make him pay for the action more than Wade can ever afford. He takes a few steps away from the house before deciding that enacting just a little bit of his own justice won’t hurt.

He stares at the front door for a while, indecisive. Twice, he nearly kicks it down until he thinks better of it. He’s got a better idea and dashes around to the back of Duguay’s house. This way Duguay will be the first to see it. Wade runs up to his back door and, without hesitation, kicks it off its hinges.

He makes a mess of things as he wanders around the inside of the house, looking for one of Duguay’s Bibles. Upon finding one in the bedroom, he says a quick prayer of forgiveness for what he’s about to do. He enters the kitchen and opens the bible, turning to Matthew chapter seven so fast that he rips a few pages in the process. He lays the bible on the table before pulling out the charred remains of his German New Testament, tearing out the page containing the first couple of verses of Matthew chapter seven. He places it next to the French Bible, looking back and forth between the two as he slowly reads the words.

 _“Judge not that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you_.”

Wade scoffs at the thought of Deacon Duguay and the rest of the town on their witch hunt being unable to face their own judgement.

 _“And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove the speck from your eye’; and look, a plank_ is _in your own eye? Hypocrite!’”_

Wade then rummages through the kitchen until he finds a knife, using it to stab the torn bible page, nailing it to Duguay’s Bible, repeating the word out loud, but it does not satisfy him.

“HYPOCRITE!” Wade screams, not caring if the neighbors hear and his cover is blown.

_“First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”_

He takes a nearby chair, kicking it until he breaks the back off of it. The way it resembles the condition of Wade’s old porch chair doesn’t escape him. He then uses the chair back to hammer in the knife, making sure the page is securely pinned to the table. Wade tosses the broken piece into the sink and walks out the back door, slamming it shut behind him.

Wade makes, what is supposed to be, his last trip up the dirt road, but as he walks, the lack of sleep and food start to catch up to him. He enters his old cabin, stepping over the pile of debris he created in the kitchen while searching for some food. He sits down to eat, his legs feeling too weak to hold him up. Nodding off at one point, he’s startled to see that it’s already past midnight when he wakes.

_If they found Mr. Périgord or if he’s regained consciousness by now…_

Scrambling to leave, Wade gathers his belongings and a few final items from the kitchen. Before heading out, Wade stops in the doorway to turn around and say goodbye to the place he has called home for many years.

_I’m sorry, but we both know Al would hate the thought of them coming back up here, so we have to make sure there’s nothing left for them to come back to._

Wade looks down at the bottle of cognac he grabbed just before leaving, taking a big swig from it. After wiping roughly at his mouth with a free hand, he smashes the bottle against the floor. It takes two matches, but Wade manages to start a small fire before turning around, not wanting to see it grow or how big it will get.

He rushes up the road and heads towards Al’s grave, kneeling beside it for one last goodbye.

“Hey, old lady! It’s a good thing you can’t see because you won’t believe what I just had to do to our home. But trust me, you’d say it was the preferred option. Anyways, I…” Wade swallows back the words he can’t bring himself to say. “You know what? There may be some good people still left in that town, it’s not full Sodom and Gomorrah down there, I mean, there’s at least Lasalle’s family and the kind lady who owns the café. But keep an eye on the rest, will you? Maybe knock some sense into them with your cane. I’d try to do it myself but I’m… I’m past the point of being angry. I’m just so tired, you see…” Wade’s breath shudders as his eyes well with tears. “There was one last good thing about this place, one tiny ray of hope and it’s… and _he’s_ gone. So, I can’t stay here anymore. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go too.”

Wade swipes his face with his sleeve before looking back up at the wooden tombstone that he carved for Al. “Don’t nag the angels.” Wade scoffs after reading the faded inscription. “You know what, give them hell. Give them and all the townsfolk absolute hell.”

He pats the boulder above the grave twice before turning around, and for the very last time, he leaves the little village nestled between the mountains.


	46. Oct 29 – Nov 8, 1958

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve, all!
> 
> Sorry for the long disappearance, but hopefully I can get these last three chapters to my betas and you can finally have your conclusion.  
> Also, keep an eye out for all the Spideypool Priest Fest 2020 fics that'll be posted this weekend!

Wade travels northwest, heading towards central France. Soon, he finds another small village, yet he feels it could easily be the size of his former town. Initially, the thought of holing up in another rural community perturbs him, but there is one thing that makes this particular location worthwhile. This town is just south of the city where his employer is stationed.

_Well, where he used to be stationed until he was compromised, but hey, there’s got to be a few connections left which means I have a few more ways to find Peter. Besides, I’ve been here before, so it should be easy to adjust, right?_

It takes a while, and he receives a lot of nasty looks, but Wade manages to find a run-down upstairs unit that someone is willing to rent to him on a weekly basis. He tries to settle in, to make his temporary holdings comfortable while laying low, but the whole situation bothers him greatly. Wade is used to sleeping in the most awkward and uncomfortable of conditions on his missions, but that’s manageable when you know you have somewhere to return to. Without a place he can truly call home, he feels a sense of constant unrest and anger rising inside him.

Deciding to address his rage in a tried-and-true way, Wade decides to go to a local church a few days later to seek absolution for his recent increase in hatred. Though this has been his life for over a decade, Wade still hasn’t gotten used to the stares he receives when entering a new town. Getting the same treatment upon entering a church does not help things either. His discomfort is already higher than he’d like by the time he is seated inside the confessional booth.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been five weeks since my last confession.” Wade then eases into his confession, hinting at all the anger he has felt these past few days, all while adding in little details when he feels it’s safe to do so. He finally admits to his recent act of physical aggression, defending his actions by complaining about the ‘caboche’ and ‘nazi’ comments, pointing out how awful it is to be treated like that and accused of playing such a role in the war all because he is ex-military.

“Pray tell, what role _did_ you play?”

Startled by the question, Wade fumbles for his words before blurting out. “I was—I, well, I was a soldier, yes, but I wasn’t—”

“So, I don’t see how that is any better. You were also a murderer in the war, and you must seek penance for your actions in—”

“I’ve already sought penance for my actions in the war, _during_ the war.”

When the clergyman tries to argue with Wade further about the gravity of his past sins, Wade stands up suddenly, hitting the partition wall with the side of his fist to silence the other man.

“Is this what church here is like? Being cold to a war veteran that’s tried his hardest to fix all the pervasive consequences of war? To judge him and assume part of his life based on incomplete context given in confession? I’ve always—” Wade stops himself, realizing the irony of his next comment as he’s still inside the booth, so he steps out of it. “I’ve always found it rather annoying that I have to find a middle man to be absolved, having to confess my sins to someone else, another human that’s also guilty of sins of the flesh, someone that’s ready to cast the first stone. Maybe you should think twice before condemning the person who saved Ms. Audrey Martin. Makes us all less likely to help the next person in need.”

“Ms. Martin? How do you know—”

“I was the one that found her, brought her here, and reunited her with what was left of her family. I pray she’s still doing well.”

Wade hears the clergyman stuttering out a reply as he opens the door to the confessional booth, but Wade turns on his heels and races out of the church, not willing to continue the conversation any longer. He jogs all the way to his safe house, plopping himself down on the tiny cot supplied by the building’s owners.

_What do I have to do to find a place that recognizes our God as forgiving and nonjudgmental? Who won’t take it upon themselves to pick up the slack!?_

He lays down for a moment and attempts to nap, arm thrown over his face to block out the sun peeking through the tear in the curtains. After realizing that it’s too bright and noisy outside for him to get any rest, he decides to go ahead and find a few contacts to help him in his search for Peter.

However, Wade ends up standing in front of a pile of rubble where three buildings at the end of a street seem to have collapsed against each other. He gapes at the sight before stopping a man walking by, who appears nonplussed by the extensive damage just meters away.

“Sir! Sir, can you tell me what happened here?”

“Oh, that? Don’t you know? The bakery was hit in the war,” the man gestures to what is left of the building that once stood on the corner, “apparently took a lot more damage than originally thought and ended up collapsing one day, taking the others with it. Luckily, it was at night so no one was hurt.”

“I see… yes, lucky…”

 _That idiot said his establishment was_ compromised _, not_ destroyed! _This is totally different! That means there’s nothing left here, not even contacts to gather._

With a heavy sigh, Wade trudges back up the road.

_Since I already paid for the week, I might as well stay one last night before heading out in the morning._

As soon as dawn breaks, Wade begins his journey northeast to the region of Alsace. It takes a few days, but he soon finds himself standing in front of a decrepit building, ridiculing the plaque outside displaying the name of the establishment. Shaking his head, he barges inside, rushing through the room and immediately calling for the owner.

“Weas! Weasel! You dumb little—”

“Jesus, Wade!” Shouts the curly haired man in glasses standing behind the bar, clutching a hand to his chest while his other holds a glass. “For the last time, my name is—”

“Whatever, Weas. The name I actually want to talk about is this dump here,” Wade punctuates his sentence with a hard jab to the bar top. “Sister Marguerite? _Sister_? Marguerite’s School for—”

“Yeah, a little homage to all your Catholic chatter. Don’t roll your eyes at me! I’m serious! Well, that and I wanted a slightly less conspicuous name, and your freaking religious correspondence gave me the idea to go full nun. I mean, we already sort of go full nun as is.” Weasel jerks his head towards the two nuns that have just entered the building. He pulls a few documents out from under the bar. “One moment. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here, scaring off your customers with my face!”

“I’m used to it,” Weasel grumbles before heading off.

Any other time, Wade would keep teasing his friend, pointing out how no one else is here yet, but as soon as he’s left alone, he realizes the mild excitement of finding the new establishment has already faded, and he’s back to feeling depressed. Wade turns in his seat to watch the interaction between Weasel and the nuns.

Wade assumes the nuns are from a hospital since that’s the only time he’s ever seen them wear all-white garb. This, however, only makes them stand out even more in a place so dark and drab; you can’t even tell that it’s still daylight outside. He looks down and sees the rope belt—an uncommon but not completely outdated accessory—just below their cincture. But what makes this rope unique is the colored ribbon intertwined in it, a sign that they’re one of Weasel’s nuns, someone willing to associate with him for the greater good. They are aware of his business, at least the parts that will not scare them or go against their moral codes, and they are willing to risk their own lives to finish transporting orphans, widows, and other such survivors to safety after a mission is over. Wade has always felt that it is asking too much of them, so he tends to escort Weasel’s helpers to their destination on the rare occasion he’s working a mission that involves such outside help.

 _But they only ever showed up at a safe location after a mission was completed, never at the target site or during a mission. Yet, here they are, in_ Sister _Marguerite’s. Why, though? Has business gotten so bad that they now have to become this involved, or have they always been close enough to the job to know about headquarters?_

Wade watches as Weasel and the nuns exchange a few documents, the man nearly knocking his own glasses off his face as he talks animatedly with his hands. He sees one of the nuns fold the papers longways and tuck them up her sleeve, cupping the bulge flat against her forearm, clearly not her first time attempting to hide documentation.

When Weasel returns to the bar and picks up the glass again, Wade spins back around and says, “I understand why you use the nuns when a mission ends at a hospital or an orphanage. But why do you still involve those ladies as messengers?”

“Think about it. Who’s going to stop and search a nun? They all look like saints, but it’s well known they are vicious, most with killer instincts. Any bastard that tries to mess with them will look like a heathen and an idiot with a death wish. So, no one does.”

Weasel’s use of ‘heathen’ echoes in Wade’s mind, except it is now in Cardinal Marc’s voice. He watches Weasel grab a bottle off the shelf and open his mouth to continue chattering, but then the doors of the bar fly open as a mass of shouting people pour in. Setting his cup down hard, Wade’s friend leans over until he can thump his head against the bar top. “I just want to pour myself a drink. When will you people leave me alone?”

“That’s what you get for running two businesses.”

Weasel rolls his head just enough to glare at Wade with one eye. When the new patrons make it up to the bar, Wade leans over and asks, “You still got spare rooms upstairs like at—”

“Yes,” Weasel groans, slowly nodding his head.

“Good. You seem like you’re about to be busy, and I just want to be left alone anyways, so I’ll just talk to you tomorrow when it’s quiet again.”

Weasel bolts upright and says something in reply, but Wade ignores it, already halfway to a set of steps off to the side of the bar.

Wade creeps along the hallway on the second floor, unsure of what lies behind each of the five doors. When he reaches the last one, he realizes it’s cracked open and decides to peek inside. There’s a desk with a stack of papers sitting on the chair. In the corner is a small wood heater, blanket, and what Wade believes to be a cushion from a sofa.

_Idiot must have tried hiding out in his office recently._

Determining this is a good enough make-shift bedroom, Wade sets his bags down. He lies on the middle of the floor, struggling to get comfortable. When he hears a scream from downstairs and then shattering glass, he doesn’t flinch or feel compelled to investigate, but instead turns away from the door and pulls the thin blanket up over his face.

In the faded pink light caused by the bedding, Wade finds his mind spiraling again. He doesn’t know what to do or how to go about finding Peter, not with the church the way it is and not without risking further ruin to his chances of salvation—

_Or Peter’s for that matter._

Wade struggles to formulate a plan when he suddenly recalls the conversation during their picnic, and he wonders if Peter, wherever he may be, now has the chance to be in a field of flowers exactly how he described. As Wade tries to focus on the thought, the most positive one he’s had leaving his home, there comes a knock on the door.

By the time Wade pulls the blanket down and sits up, Weasel has already entered the room. The door propped open behind him allows the sounds from downstairs to permeate the space. Half of Weasel’s hair is soaked, and he’s now wearing a different shirt. Wade smirks, knowing that this must mean someone threw a beer at him again.

“I know you said something about not bothering you, or wanting silence, or something about being lonely… or was it ‘alone’ or… I don’t know. I wasn’t really listening.”

“Clearly.”

“But you seem off. Did something happen?”

“I’m just tired from my journey and want some rest,” Wade says as he lays back down, closing his eyes. He hears footsteps then the sounds of papers falling to the floor and Weasel cursing. He peeks over to see Weasel looking annoyed at the spread of documents under the desk before pulling the chair out further. He knocks the last paper on it off towards the rest before sitting down.

“I know you, Wade. This isn’t travel weariness. Something is wrong. Does this have anything to do with how the last mission panned out?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Suppose I’m just a little upset it didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped.”

Weasel lifts his shirt and pulls out a parcel he has had tucked behind the waistband of his pants. He tosses it onto Wade’s lap. “Bullshit. Even with worse missions, you still managed to get your cut. What happened? Why was your pay sent back to me?”

Wade toys with the fraying edge of the string wrapped around the parcel before angrily throwing it towards his knapsack. “I lost him. I lost Peter. And before you say something fucking stupid like ‘Did you check the church?’ don’t. He’s not there either. The church _disposed_ of him somehow. He’s been exiled as far as I know, but I have reason to believe it might have been worse.” Wade can feel his voice becoming weaker as he continues, “Far worse if people are questioning his survival… and it’s all my fault.”

Weasel slides from his chair, kneeling down besides Wade. He says the first of many platitudes and after some hesitance, he awkwardly pats Wade on the shoulder. Wade merely quirks his brow at him. “I’m sorry, consoling someone is really not my forté. I know less about doing that than I know how you manage all my worst missions. However, I’ll…” Weasel lets his hand slide from Wade’s shoulder as he glances towards the door as the shouting downstairs has suddenly returned. “Well, after this nonsense passes, I’ll see what I can do on my end, though I doubt I can be of much—”

There’s another loud crash and Weasel stands, rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him. Wade lays down, playing with the beads on his wrist. He recites prayers until he feels his exhaustion catching up to him, making his eyelids heavy and his body lax. He’s on the verge of sleep when there’s another knock on the door.

“Leave me alone, Weas.”

There is a slight thump from the other side of the door but nothing further. Wade waits a moment and cracks the door open, not spotting anything until he looks down. There’s a glass of beer on the floor and a note from Weasel.

> _Whenever you get hungry, help yourself to the kitchen. It’s that door just behind the stairs._
> 
> _And if you need to go to church, there’s one about 2 kilometers north of here. I don’t know much about it, but I’ve been told it’s all right. They aren’t constantly trying to convert me, so that’s good in my book._

Wade grabs the beer and downs half of it in one go. He then retreats inside the room, pausing for a moment before he adds the note to the mess of papers under the desk. He thinks about the church comment and strains to remember what day of the week it is before he realizes he does not care.

_Why would I want to go back after what I had to face at the last two?_

Wade lays down on his make-shift bed again, wondering if Weasel’s backchannels would really be of any help with matters involving the church. He knows Weasel said it might not be, but he wants to try, wants to take every opportunity he can get, even if it’s unlikely to succeed.

Then a terrible thought creeps in, making Wade feel cold and hollow inside.

_Why should I bother? Wouldn’t it be best to just leave it all alone?_

_I mean, everyone I’ve ever cared for has died. My family was the first to go, then the neighbors that cared enough to help whenever possible. They were trying to check in on me when the Nazis raided the hospital. Then it was Vanessa and the baby I never even got to meet. Al passed as did Mrs. Beaumont. And now… Peter? I know it’s likely that he’s alive somewhere, but I can’t help but fear that he isn’t… and him almost ‘not surviving’ will have been all my fault._

Wade dwells on his role in Peter’s fall from grace, feeling disgusted and disappointed with himself. He concludes that he isn’t sure what happened to Peter, but if there is any chance that he’s simply in exile and is safe, he might be more likely to stay that way without Wade there.

_Maybe everything else would be better if I wasn’t here at all. I should have never entered that church that winter. I should have stayed outside where I belong._

Wade falls asleep thinking about his original plan to rid France of evil, namely his final step. He spends the next several days sleeping, dissociating, and attempting to eat the food Weasel leaves out for him whenever the pains in his stomach become too much to bear. Eventually, he wakes late one afternoon to Weasel barging into the room and pulling all the curtains open.

As Weasel tries to tell him that it’s time to stop moping around, Wade says, “I just want to be left alone.”

“You plan on withering away and dying in here?”

“Perhaps.”

“Sure, that’s fine, do whatever you want. But since that might take a while, I’d like to apologize in advance for checking in on you a few more times before your last breath.”

Wade gives a weak snort, the closest thing he can manage as a laugh, as Weasel places a sandwich on the desk and leaves. Wade stares at it for a moment before rolling over to fall back asleep.

Several hours later, there is a loud racket downstairs. Wade’s used to this; he’s seen and heard such behavior every time he visits Weasel and even recalls the violent behavior the bar’s regulars exhibited the first day he came here. However, it is much worse this time. The shouts are not playfully loud or of that of some drunken scuffle. It’s a mass of people vehemently shouting at Weasel, who is now shouting back. Wade bolts up and listens intently, trying to make sure he heard correctly since he cannot recall a single instance of Weasel ever raising his voice to that level.

When he hears his friend screaming for silence again, Wade rushes downstairs, skipping the last step and stumbling into the side of the bar. Wade’s arm reaches out to catch himself, causing him to knock over a whiskey glass. This is enough to draw the attention of Weasel and a couple of other patrons, the latter of which resume their loud protest. Weasel takes this opportunity to rush over to Wade, trying to ignore the commotion on the other side.

“The hell is going on here?”

Weasel rolls his eyes. “Seems the people here are getting picky about their suicide missions.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“They’re all suddenly worried about death. I mean, we call it a ‘suicide mission’ for a reason, but I guess they don’t get the ‘suicide’ part anymore. It’s not the first time I posted a mission like this, so I don’t understand why they have a problem with it now.”

“But it’s not like you’re _making_ anyone go, right? It’s still a choice.”

Weasel reels back, giving Wade an offended look. “OF COURSE! What kind of person would that make me if I sent someone against their will on a mission like this? Might as well add myself to the targets wall.”

Wade starts to comment on how that would work logistically when Weasel turns back to the crowd and shouts, “HEY! INJURED MAN OVER HERE! So, I need to take him—”

“I’m not injured, I—”

“Just fucking help me escape!” Weasel grits through his teeth.

“Come on, Weas. Help me upstairs,” Wade says loudly and flatly, causing several of the angry patrons to glare at their weak attempt at an escape.

Weasel hurries around the bar and tucks himself under the arm of the larger man. They walk up the stairs together, Wade trying not to laugh at how they must look to the angry mob down below. When they get into Wade’s room, Weasel immediately asks, “Do you know how many days you’ve been up here?”

The sliver of a smile on Wade’s face quickly disappears. “No, I—”

“Dammit, Wade!” Weasel roughly spins the chair around and falls back into it. He gestures for Wade to take a seat on the couch cushion as he says, “Are you really that fucking worked up about your priest going off the map? Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for ministry and—”

“He isn’t just my priest… nor is he just my friend…”

Weasel stares at Wade for quite some time before saying, “I know. I could tell. But… it’s probably for the best, you know? You’re probably all pent up now since you can’t do much with a priest anyways, except what? Hold hands while you pray together? I mean—no… no, you…”

Wade has been attempting a blank face while Weasel speaks, but with the way Weasel trails off, he knows he must have failed. He watches as Weasel’s face goes from confusion to the shock of realization, then finally disgust.

“God dammit, Wade!” Weasel throws his head back and wipes his hands down his face while sighing heavily. He remains in that position as he says, “And here I thought I could go to hell and finally be away from your ugly mug once and for all. Now you’re just going to join me down there with all your priest fucking. They’ll probably even promote you for that, making you my boss or some shit. Fuck you.” He then leans forward resting his elbows on his knees, looking dead at Wade. “Was it even any good? I mean, did he—did he even know…” Weasel makes a few awkward gestures with his hands.

Wade stares down at his own knees as his mind starts playing back snippets of those moments of affection and intimacy with Peter. It is a collage of tenderness his depression and hatred has caused him to temporarily forget. “He did, I guess. I mean, it was more about the human connection then. Not like we committed sodomy or anything. But the few times we became _close_ to one another, it was… it felt _freeing_. I felt like nothing else mattered and nothing was expected of me except to love him, which I already, willingly did. I felt a love beyond comprehension. Although it was with someone else as flawed and as human as me, it still reminded me of the unconditional love of the Lord that’s preached about, with the way he—”

“Stop! Just fucking stop! It’s bad enough I got to hear all your religious talk as is, but why must you use those lines to talk about your sex life as well? Why must you ruin sex for me?” Weasel stands with a huff and jerks open the door. He turns back to Wade and points at him angrily as he says, “Just for that, no more free beers.”

Wade laughs weakly. He continues to think about all the good times he had with Peter, but the nostalgia is no longer bittersweet, it has turned sour with the thought that it may very well be all over now. He feels sick with worry over Peter again as his mind reminds him that he’s to blame for everything that has happened or might have happened to his beloved.

Then he starts thinking about their first kiss, about how Peter broke down when he found out about Wade’s plan.

_If he really is gone, there’s no one left to keep my promise to._

He tries to push away the thoughts of that plan, feeling that he’s already dwelled on them enough this past week.

The next day, Wade is cleaning his weapons upstairs when he hears the same loud commotion from the bar below. With a resigned sigh, he stomps his way down the stairwell to see just what is so terrible about these so-called suicide mission. Wade permits himself behind the bar counter, ignoring Weasel’s protests. He snatches the notice off the back wall and silence soon fills the room. He turns around slowly to see every eye in the room now on him.

“So, uh, what’s the problem here?”

Weasel removes his glasses and starts cleaning them on his shirt as he approaches Wade, stumbling over his own feet at one point and nearly running into him. He replaces his glasses as he points to a line at the bottom of the notice.

Wade looks up and gives Weasel a confused look. “All this racket because of an abandoned mine field? That’s—that’s child’s play!”

“Well, _excuse me_ , but not all of us had the same _glamorous_ upbringing as you did, playing in mine fields. Did you also play catch with a bomb?”

Wade skims the notice again, realizing that the mine field is only part of the issue, the rest being armed guards and whatever other terrible resources that might be provided by funding from a political candidate. He moves to pin the notice back onto the board, when a wave of anger hits him, making him feel reckless for the first time in years. It is the same kind of recklessness he felt after Vanessa died where he kept hoping his next mission would be his last. Wade quickly pockets the notice as he turns back to Weasel.

“I’ll take it.”

“What?”

“I’ll take it, oh, and that whole ‘pay if you survive’ line? Just keep it. Should be more than enough to cover my recent room and board.”

“It should cover you for several months at least, but—”

Wade immediately brushes past Weasel and runs up the stairs. He can hear someone running up after him, but he does not want to stop.

He is already halfway packed when Weasel stumbles in the room, panting. Weasel curses under his breath before looking up at Wade. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“This village is on the west coast. I’ll have to cross all of France to get there, so I need to leave immediately.”

“I mean what do you think you’re doing taking this mission all of a sudden after being a sad sack in the corner of my office for a week.”

Wade looks around the room. “Is that what this is? An office?”

“Wade! Be serious, please! Are you just trying to throw yourself into your work again?”

“Throw myself into my work?” He laughs hollowly as he checks the room for the last of his supplies. Certain there is nothing else he needs, he pushes past Weasel and out the door saying, “No… there’s nothing to throw… there’s nothing left of me. What was there disappeared with Peter.”


End file.
